


Pretty Boy

by WaterHorseyBlues



Category: B.A.P
Genre: AU, Angst, Bangchan - Freeform, Developing Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Romance, banghim, fake relationship turns into real relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 30,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5935033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterHorseyBlues/pseuds/WaterHorseyBlues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himchan's pretty face causes him more trouble than he's comfortable with. Yongguk just wants to know that he's getting him home safe. A few white lies here and a handful of "it's convenient for them to think we're dating"'s there, what starts out as a few acts of human kindness winds them up in a number of situations Himchan isn't quite sure he's ready for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Streetlight People

Street lights bleached him onto the blackness of the starless night, a lone figure on the empty streets of the city suburbs. Where the artificial light hit him it smoothed out his fox-like features, only for the shadows to accentuate them on the other side like a crescent moon. With his black clothes, raven hair, sharp dark eyes and pale skin Himchan could've been a stencil painting on a canvas.

He was alone – he hoped. Many of the street lights here had long since died out or broken, leaving a huge black space between the lamp he stood beneath now and the one just a few warehouses away. Everything between was a strange haze as his mind tried to form images in the dark abyss his eyes were locked on. Anything could be down there. Any _one_ could be down there, and often they were.

He'd walked this stretch a hundred times on his way home, and he always made it home, but that didn't make it any easier. He just had to pass through the industrial estate and he'd be fine. If he could just pass through without someone calling out to him-

“Hey, pretty thing,” a gruff voice called out.

He dropped his head and tried to ignore the pounding in his chest, letting his feet carry him that very slight bit faster.

“Where d'you think you're going?” the voice asked. A hand reached out to grab Himchan's shoulder and turned him around.

He barely held back a screech as the huge man loomed over him. “Fuck off!” he snarled, slapping the hand away and trying to back up, only to bump into the chest of another mortifyingly large man. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“That's no way to talk to someone who's payin' you a compliment,” the second man said, the greasy sneer on his face carved of black and white and imprinting itself onto Himchan's eyes.

“Leave me alone!” He tried, though his voice cracked as he tried to escape the hulking figures that were now cornering him against the closest warehouse wall. His pulse was beating in his ears now.

“Always so rude. Not very becoming of a pretty boy like you,” the first man said, crowding the smaller against the wall.

Himchan spat at him.

“You fucking brat!” the man snarled and grabbed him by the jaw with grubby hands as the other man closed in, “time someone put you in your place!”

“We can start by putting that pretty mouth of yours to good use for once,” the other leered.

Panic was screaming in his veins now, making each grimy detail of the two men clear in his head and the horrid implications of their words filling his throat with bile. If he called out, no one would hear, and they'd probably treat him worse for it. If he didn't do anything... A chill ran down his spine. He couldn't take on two men by himself.

“Hey!” A deep voice broke through the ringing in his ears and the two men looked around.

Behind them stood a third man. He was nowhere near as large or bulky, but the sight of him alone was terrifying enough. The low light covered his face in shadow, but illuminated enough to show a pair of dark, murderous eyes and a vicious snarl on his lips. With the military-style haircut and huge metal-plated boots, the new arrival looked all the part of a local gangster with a taste for blood.

“Get away from him,” came that deep voice, like thunder, as he stormed towards them with the natural swagger of someone who could break a jaw with one well-placed punch.

“Who the hell are you?” asked the man who was still holding Himchan's face, though his previous confidence seemed to have withered.

“I said, get away,” the thunder-voiced man snarled.

The two men wasted no time. They jerked away from Himchan like he was poison barbs and dashed off into the night, sparing a few frightened glances back at the two. With nothing left to hold him up, Himchan's knees gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the floor, heart hammering its way out of his ribs. He was left alone with this murderous stranger and had no idea what to expect.

“Hey, are you okay?” the deep voice had suddenly changed, now soft and concerned as the man jogged over to him with an awkward swing of his arms.

“I-” Himchan blinked, unable to process this turn of events as the stranger stopped a few feet short of him and crouched down at eye level. In the darkness he couldn't make out the man's expression.

“Did they hurt you?” the stranger asked, voice laced with worry, “Do you need me to help you up?”

“No,” Himchan replied breathlessly, “maybe.”

Gentle, startlingly soft hands reached out and took hold of his arm and pulled him up. When they were both standing, the stranger led him back towards the light, watching with with a searching gaze.

“You're not hurt?” The concern again.

“No, just... Shaken.” Himchan turned a little to get a good look at his apparent saviour.

In better lighting, the man was far less frightening, though still slightly intimidating. His features were gentler than at first seemed and his mouth, no longer snarling hostility, was lined with soft looking plump lips. Though in a tight military cut, his hair was actually slightly fluffy and well-kept. The murderous gaze had completely vanished, and were now wide as he looked over him.

“Good thing I managed to scare them away, then,” he eventually chuckled, “I'm terrible at fights.” His lips parted in a grin that showed more gum than Himchan actually thought possible. The smile obliterated the gangster image he'd held mere moments before.

“Who... are you?” Himchan asked, slowly freeing himself from the man's hold.

“Ah, sorry, I should've said earlier,” the man let out a nervous laugh, “My name's Yongguk. I was just walking home when I saw you and those guys. I'm sorry if I scared you, I'm really not like that.”

“No, no, it's fine, you got rid of those bastards...” he held out a hand, “I'm Himchan. Thank you, so, so much for saving me just then. I- I don't really want to imagine what would've happened if you hadn't shown up.”

Yongguk took his hand in his own surprisingly soft grip and shook it, still smiling. “Himchan. I'll remember that. Hey, you don't need to thank me. I can't believe some guys would just do that.”

“Trust me when I say: I can,” Himchan replied bitterly.

Yongguk's brow furrowed, “Does this happen a lot?”

“Not quite like that,” Himchan's voice faltered a little, “But it's not the first time guys like that have tried something.”

Yongguk gazed at him, eyes searching his face as though he expected Himchan to shout 'Just kidding!' and laugh. When no such thing happened he reached out a hand and placed his palm on the other's shoulder. “Do you want me to walk you the rest of your way home?”

“I don't need a bodyguard,” he insisted, backing out of Yongguk's touch.

“At least let me walk you to the end of the block.”

Himchan debated this internally for a moment. His heart was still going, hands trembling where he'd shoved them into his pockets as soon as their grip had broken. Could he trust this man just because he'd got him out of a fix? What if he tried something? He looked around at the dark warehouses and the shapeless void between them and the streetlight at the end of the road – a willow-the-whisp luring him into possible disaster.

He looked back at the concerned eyes and swallowed. “Fine. Just to the end of the block.”

Relief graced Yongguk's face. “Thank God, I really would not have felt comfortable letting you walk alone.”

“Thank you, again,” Himchan smiled a little and turned away to start walking.

With a small skip, Yongguk stepped up to his side and walked along with him. They stepped into the darkness silently, two silhouettes merging and dissolving into the inky blackness. Only the sound of their footsteps gave any indication that they were there at all. Despite himself, Himchan walked just close enough to the other man for their arms to brush regularly, confirming he was still there.

“So,” he said after a moment of tense silence as his mind started to whisper terrible possibilities to him, “You were walking home, right? Where do you work?”

“Not too far away. Just in the studios back there.”

“Studios?” Himchan couldn't helps raising an eyebrow, though he knew Yongguk couldn't see.

“Yeah, I work with music...”

“Hang on, aren't those studios for idols? You work with idols?”

Yongguk laughed nervously, accidentally stumbling into Himchan's side in the darkness. “Uh, yeah. I teach kids how to rap.”

“You teach idols how to rap? Are you serious? I just got saved by a man who works with famous people?”

“Hey, they get famous through their own hard work, I just guide them. That doesn't make me anything special.”

“If it weren't for your guidance, they couldn't work hard and become famous,” Himchan countered.

“Ah, I guess when you put it like that...” He laughed nervously and the little light that they slowly approached illuminated his fiddling hands.

“It's important to take pride in your work. If you believe you're doing an important job then you'll do your job better.”

“You think?” Yongguk raised his brows and turned to look at him, his features lit gently by the steadily approaching light. “They sound like wise words. I'll take it into consideration. Who knows, maybe it'll help my students?” He laughed nervously again, the wide smile spreading across his features. “What about you? Where were you coming from?”

“Work, as expected. I teach as well, but not idols.”

“Really? What do you teach?”

“I teach classical instruments at the music college. It's not as flashy or exciting as idols, but traditional instruments are important. They're culturally very significant and foreigners like them.” he glanced over to Yongguk, expecting to see the other man looking disinterested or amused. Instead he was met with an expression of deep awe.

“You play traditional instruments? Wow... What do you play?”

“Oh, not much,” he replied lightly, feigning an air of casualness about his general life achievements, “you know, the usual. Janggu, daegeum, jing, kkwaenggwari...”

“Thats... Wow. That's really impressive. Do you play anything else?”

“Piano and guitar.”

“How did you find the time to learn so many instruments?” Yongguk was openly impressed.

Himchan laughed a little, unable to keep up his mild attitude. “I studied them at school, I was only really interested in traditional instruments. There's something nice about them...”

“That's really incredible.”

They'd reached the end of the block and stood beneath the last streetlight on the corner, now both bathed in a gentle orange tinted glow. The colour gave their features a softer shape, their hair unusual coloured tones. Despite the cool air, they looked warm to the touch.

“Thanks for walking with me. I can make my way home from here.”

“No problem. I turn left here, you?”

“Right.”

Yongguk nodded. “Maybe we'll meet again?”

“Maybe. I'll buy you a drink when that happens.”

They laughed together, shook hands once more, and left their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Journey - Don't Stop Believin'


	2. Midnight Angel

Himchan made his way back from work, collar turned up and hands in his pockets, fisted around his keys like a knuckleduster. It wasn't much, and he definitely wasn't the strongest person, but one good swing and the keys could do some real damage. It was something the female teachers had mentioned once when talking about being out and about during the night. He didn't think he'd have to take the advice.

As he stared at the inky stains of shadows between the buildings, he wished he'd thought to buy himself a keychain torch, or a lighter (or a bottle of pepper spray, he added meekly). The glow of his phone would be useless and only attract a different kind of night dwelling street scum, and he quite liked not being mugged at knife point. Maybe he should take to carrying his guitar around on the off chance he needed a large weapon. The brief mental image of his beautiful guitar with the neck snapped and the body splintered immediately made him decide against that.

The darkness seemed to leer at him as he got closer to the warehouses. His eyes strained to pick out shapes in the black abyss and every sound was amplified until all he could hear was his own heavy breathing deafening him. His heart raced as his gaze fell onto the darkness between the two working streetlights. His hands felt clammy.

Just as he was about to turn back and call for a taxi, a deep voice called out.

“Himchan?”

He turned, eyes wide and face pale, like a deer caught in headlights and bleached out by the contrast. He watched the figure approach and it wasn't until that deep voice spoke again that he realised who it was.

“It is you. I didn't think I'd run into you again so soon.”

“Yongguk,” Himchan's mouth pulled at the corners into a weak smile. Relief washed over him, if only weakly.

“I didn't mean to sort of... Yell at you just then. I thought, you know, if it's you, and considering everything, I can always walk with you again if you want some company...” His voice got smaller the longer he spoke until he was coughing nervously, hands tucking into his back pockets.

Himchan couldn't help the grin spread across his face. How had this guy ever been so intimidating? “Well, I said I'd buy you a drink didn't I? There's a place we could grab a few pints nearby.”

“You don't have to buy me a drink,” Yongguk began, but Himchan waved him off.

“Nonsense. I said I would, and I will. I want to. Anyway, it'll be fun. We can continue our conversation.”

 

As it turns out, continuing conversation takes some effort on Himchan's behalf. Yongguk drinks slowly, and seems to run out of things to say very easily. But he can handle it. Besides, a little bit of alcohol always gets him chatty, and being in a warm bar with warm lighting makes him far more comfortable around this new person.

Also, he kind of likes this guy. Yongguk is only a little bit older than him, but seems much older. Now he could see the man properly, Yongguk's face is handsome in a way he's not really seen before. It's not a conventional attractiveness with his tan skin and slim eyes and crooked teeth, but that's what makes him handsome. He's masculine in a way that large dogs are masculine – cool looking, but also soft and gentle, and soft and gentle is exactly what Yongguk is like.

“So,” Himchan raises his glass, eyeing him over the rim, “I can understand if you're not allowed to tell me too much about the idols you train... But tell me about the idols you train.”

Yongguk laughs, and it's a genuine burst of humour that bursts and cracks through his shy exterior. “I can't say much, honestly. Idol protection and company contracts and all that.”

“Ah, come on. You must be able to tell me something! Just little things,” Himchan knows he sounds a bit whiny, but he's also laughing. He can't help but be curious.

“Well...” Yongguk grins a little at the demands, “I've been training this kid, he's really talented.”

“Any name I know?”

“Nah, he's not debuted yet. But I don't think he's far, the kid could probably break sound barriers with how fast he can rap.”

“Are you a fast rapper?” Himchan raised an eyebrow, trying to picture Yongguk speaking any faster than his slow thoughtful tone.

“Ah, it's not really what I do. I can do it, and I've worked to help idols learn how, but this kid takes it on another level.”

“Do you have any pictures? Recordings?” Himchan leaned his head on his hand, grin widening.

“Ahh... I don't know about a recording but he took a photo with me on his instagram, one second.” He pulled his phone out and tapped the screen a few times and scrolled.

Himchan leaned over the table curiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of what sort of stuff this guy did with his accounts. He only had the briefest glimpse of monocrome images before something brightly coloured nearly seared his eyes.

“Here we go. This kid has all the makings of an idol.” Yongguk turned the screen to display the image.

There was Yongguk, stood back as though he hadn't even planned to have the picture taken, all baggy hoodie and styled hair. In front of him was a teenage boy with huge sparkling eyes and colourful hair. The contrast between the two of them was almost hilarious.

“Aww, he's so cute! Look at his cheeks, I want to pinch them,” Himchan crooned, while secretly memorising the kids instagram to snoop out later on. If he was lucky, Yongguk would have been tagged in the picture and he could snoop on his account as well.

“He is pretty cute. He's from miles away as well, so he's really dedicated to his dream. It's good to see.”

“I bet. What about you? How did you get into music?”

Yongguk shifted, looking a little nervous. “My parents didn't want to me to go into music originally. I was failing most of my classes because I didn't care about anything else.”

Himchan frowned a little. He knew what it was like to want to pursue music, he knew the draw of the art, but failing class was a little excessive.

“Eventually they told me I could only become a musician if I made top marks in all my classes. So, I studied really hard and... Well, I made top marks and here I am.”

Himchan's jaw dropped a little. “You went from failing to top marks...? How did you even do that?”

“I studied really hard, and I really wanted to go into producing music. Somewhere along the line that turned into training idols.”

“That's... Really impressive. Like impossibly impressive.”

“Thanks?” Yongguk grinned, looking away shyly. He glanced down at his phone, about to lock it and put it away, when he blinked. “Wow, is that the time already?”

Himchan looked at his own phone. “Oh, shit! It's later than I meant to stay out.”

They stood and sorted themselves out, draining their glasses and grabbing coats. When they stepped outside, the cold air buffeted them and the darkness of the night pressed on their eyes, blinding them. It took a few moments of standing outside the front of the bar and blinking before their eyes became accustomed to the low light.

“Which way do you go from here?” Himchan asked.

“Down, around the estate and a little up from there.”

“Past the flower shop?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm down as well but I leave off just before the estate.”

“Might as well walk together then.” Yongguk grinned, pulling his jacket zip up a little higher.

Just as Himchan went to answer, someone slammed into his shoulder as they left the bar. He stumbled and turned around a little, glaring. “Hey, watch it!”

“Fuck off,” came the drunken slur of the man who'd crashed into him. He was scraggly looking and stank of alcohol. He snarled at Himchan. “How about you learn to keep out of people's fuckin' way when they're walkin', huh? Stop standn' around doorways like a fuckin' idiot!”

“Hey, back off him.” Yongguk took a step closer to Himchan, a frown creasing his brow.

“Who's this prick, your boyfriend?” the drunkard sneered.

Before Himchan could suggest they just walk away, Yongguk was stepping past him towards the drunk man with the same aura he'd had when they'd first met.

“And if I was? Would that bother you?” Despite his medium stature, he seemed to loom over the man.

The drunkard stumbled back a little, eyeing up Yongguk as though deciding if he should start something. Himchan couldn't see his face, but based off previous experiences he could hazard a solid guess. There was a moment where it seemed light a fight would start, then Yongguk reached back and grabbed Himchan's hand, taking him completely by surprise. Giving the drunk one last mean look, he dragged Himchan away with a mumbled “Let's just go.”

They marched until Yongguk was sure the drunk couldn't see them, then freed Himchan's hand. “Sorry about that, I can't stand it when people throw their weight around and say stuff like that.”

“I thought you were about to break that guy's jaw.”

“No I... I said before, I don't do well in fights...” He tucked his hands into his jacket and kept walking, not meeting Himchan's curious gaze. His stomach was tense with nerves and stress.

“So, was that your very unsubtle way of chatting me up, or do you like to pretend to be people's tough protective boyfriend?”

Yongguk's face flared up. “No! No, that wasn't what I was trying to- It just came out and- I just don't like it when people-” He didn't get far in his stumbled explanation as Himchan burst out laughing, head throw back.

“I'm messing you around. Hey, if it keeps creeps from following me home and drunks from starting fights, then I'm all good for the fake boyfriend dig.” Himchan waved a slender hand passively.

“That's not... What I was trying to do... I was just...” Yongguk mumbled himself into silence, his face still red with embarrassment.

“Hey, don't worry about it. You can just be my night-time saviour. My night knight in shining armour. My night angel.”

“All of those things... Sound really awful...” He watched in dismay as the other kept laughing.

“Hey, c'mon, humour me until we reach my turn off, at least.” Himchan slipped his arm around Yongguks, holding onto it. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact Himchan was actually a pretty cool guy, but it didn't bother him too much. “Maybe some of your aura will rub off on me.”

He snorted. “What aura?”

“You know, this cool tough guy thing you have. Maybe people will see me as some deadly killer.”

“I don't really like being seen as a scary person... Definitely not someone who would hurt anyone.”

“Awh I'm sorry, I know now that you have a heart of gold,” Himchan rest his head on Yongguks shoulder and fluttered his eyelashes at him, “Which is good, because I look like a ken doll but inside I'm a stone cold bitch.”

Yongguk couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Pat Benatar - Shadows of the Night


	3. Hanging Moon

Himchan pinched his phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing his hands to button his coat up. He was in the clinical white light of his seminar room, student's essays tucked neatly into his satchel and all the instruments locked away. The only other souls in the building were the cleaning staff and a small group of second years rehearsing tirelessly. Otherwise, the halls were dark with only a handful of streaks of colour like a piano keyboard where single rooms were lit with their doors open.

“Are you going to be single on Valentines day again?” His mother was asking in a worried tone.

“Why are you so invested in my love life? I've got a stable career and a nice home and all you ever ask about is if I'm seeing anyone.” Himchan pursed his lips, marching down the hallway with his phone in hand.

“You're moving towards your late twenties, dear, you should be settling down with someone by now.”

“Mother,” Himchan grumbled. The lights of the different rooms slid over him, illuminating him then dropping him back into darkness. “My life is fine how it is.

“Don't you think you should at least have a boyfriend by now? I can give someone your number if you like – There's always that Kim Junmyeon boy.”

“Junmyeon already has my number, but he's just a friend. Look, please don't give my number out to random guys. I'm fine.”

“You just seem awfully lonely these days.”

“Mother,” he hissed, fumbling to swap his phone to the other ear to shift his bag strap, “Everything's fine. I-” he slowed a little as he thought of something to say, “I'm already seeing someone!” He stopped in one of the dark blocks of the hallway, almost immediately regretting his lie.

“Oh What's he like?” His mother asked, voice perky and interested.

“Um,” he cast around nervously, “Nice, well-mannered, soft hands...” He passed through a strip of light into another dark block, “His name's Yongguk.” He bit his tongue, irritated at himself.

“Well you should introduce him to the rest of us sometime, don't keep him a secret.”

“Yeah well... We've only gone out twice. I need to know it's going to go somewhere first. Look, can we talk later? I need to get home and grade these papers.” He stopped beside the doors of the building, palm resting on the handle. The grounds were well lit but he knew that was all a façade. Without the huge floodlights he wouldn't be able to see his hand in front of his eyes. There weren't even stars in the city to guide himself by.

“Okay, but call back soon. I want to know how things are going.”

“Yeah, I will, I will. Goodbye, mum.”

“Goodbye, dear.”

He hung up quickly and stuffed his phone in his pocket, shoving the doors open with the same motion. He stood outside and breathed in a lungful of cold night air, then let out a long sigh that turned into a groan.

That was a stupid lie.

 

As if to make matters worse, he bumped into Yongguk on his way home. Guilt was gnawing at his chest from the phone call and only intensified upon seeing the man.

“Himchan!” Yongguk grinned, his smile making Himchan's chest tense. “Seems like I see you every other time I walk home.”

“Weird timing,” he replied, wishing he could run away.

“Shall we walk together?” the older asked, stepping closer.

He willed himself to say no with some excuse. “Yeah sure.”

They walked on along the path, the cool night breeze ruffling their hair. Light rolled over them, stretching their shadows out and around them like circling buzzards. Around them the world was silent and dark, as though as empty as the night sky that spread out above them into the infinite void. Himchan kept his eyes forwards on the black expanse before them, focussed on the bead of light at the end of it like it was a lifeline.

They stepped into the void and Yongguk stepped a little closer to him, their arms brushing against each other and sending small shocks of nerves through him.

“You've very quiet today,” Yongguk eventually said, voice quiet and soft. It punched a lump into Himchan's throat.

“It's been a long day.” He wasn't exactly lying. It had been a long day, just like every working day.

“I can understand that.”

And that was that, and somehow that made it worse. Himchan almost wished Yongguk had pried him about it, had pushed the lie from his mouth and scolded him for it. Somehow keeping the lie a secret made the entire thing worse. It set an uncomfortable sense of wrongness in him, as though Yongguk might discover it written down and confront him about it. The guy had saved his life and he was just using his acquaintance as a means of getting his mother off his back.

They reached their break-off point and Himchan fought the strong urge to run off home before he could say goodbye. As he turned, his eyes met Yongguks own, full of concern.

“You seem stressed, anything I can help with?”

His chest tightened. “Nothing. Honestly, I'm just tired.” Now he was lying. It just made things worse.

Before Yongguk could say anything more, he'd given his arm an awkward pat and turned away out of the light of the street lamp at the end of the road and made his way home.

The house was dark when he stepped inside. Cold from the heating not turning on yet and empty. It had never bothered him before, but suddenly it seemed like there was too much space. He lay in bed, one arm stretched out over the empty side, and lay awake like that in the dark for some time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: The Ataris - Not Capable of Love


	4. Counting Stars

Himchan was comfortably drunk. Daehyuns house was warmly lit with lamps and fairy-lights strung up around door frames and shelves. He was tucked into a leather couch with people slouched around him all chatting and laughing. The house swelled with the sound of nostalgic pop music and voices of party-goers. He was cosy and happy and his drink had stayed nicely cool. He tipped his head back to drain the last dregs from his bottle.

“One moment, I'm gonna grab another drink.” He pushed himself up, ignoring the groans and complaints of the people around him having to shift out of their comfortable positions to let him past. He half stumbled as he made his way towards the kitchen, setting his empty bottle on a far-too crammed table with other finished drinks.

“Himchan!” A familiar drunk voice called out, interrupting him before he could find himself another drink. “Oi! Kim Himchan!”

He turned and spotted Daehyun waving him over frantically. “Oh, are you finally remembering you invited me over or are all of your guests getting the same cold shoulder?” He joked. He hadn't seen the singer since he'd stepped into the house hours before.

“Why do you always have to whine,” Daehyun huffed, “Listen, I want to introduce you to someone. This is my friend-”

“We've already met, actually.”

The deep voice drew Himchan's gaze from his intoxicated host and he found himself taken by surprise as he saw Yongguk stood just behind him. “Yongguk!” He blurted out before he could stop himself, “what are you doing here?”

“Ah, you already know each other? That's disappointing. I was going to introduce you. Oh well.” Daehyun gave them both a hearty pat on the shoulders before stumbling off.

“No, really, Daehyun, I'm feeling so welcomed in your home.” Himchan rolled his eyes.

“I think that's the first time I've seen him all night.” Yongguk snorted a little.

“How do you know him, then?”

“He's friends with a few of my co-workers. Singers and all that.”

Himchan nodded, “That makes sense. We used to collaborate a lot, musician and singer you know? We just kept in contact.”

Yongguk nodded, but only seemed half interested in what Himchan was saying. He was eyeing the younger man up, as though expecting something to happen. “Are you okay now? You were off the other day.”

Himchan blinked, the alcohol slowing his thoughts a little. “Oh! Yes. Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it.”

Yongguk smiled, and it was so genuine it sent a pang of guilt into his chest. “That's good. I was worried.”

“Hah. Yeah. You know, just lots of work on my plate, lots going on.” He cleared his throat a little. “I was on my way to get a drink from the kitchen, do you want to come as well and we can talk?”

“You mean walk the four feet from here to the fridge?”

“Oh- you know what I mean.” Himchan scrunched his nose up, “Come on, I'm not drunk enough to merit this a decent party”

 

Somehow they'd managed to find themselves a corner with a small wad of cushions making a make-shift seat. If they were more sober the positions they'd crumpled themselves into on the floor would have been uncomfortable and awkward. Instead, Himchan was more than happy to fold into Yongguk's side, and Yongguk was fairly comfortable with having his arm around Himchan's shoulders. There were a number of empty bottles around them, but just as many unopened at their feet.

“Kim,” Yongguk said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“That's your family name.”

“Well done Einstein. Would you- Would you like a medal?”

Yongguk nudged him with his shoulders, earning a number of giggles from the younger far drunker man. “I was going somewhere with that statement.”

“Go ahead, then.”

“It just doesn't seem to fit you.”

Himchan frowned up at him, eyes somewhat unfocussed. “It fits me... Perfectly fine! Thank you very much!”

“Hey, I didn't mean anything rude by it. I just meant... I don't know, I was expecting something more unusual or fancy?” He shrugged his free shoulder a little.

Himchan scrunched his nose up indignantly. “Oh, and I suppose you have some cool, rare family name them, hm?”

“Actually, I do,” he replied, smirking a little, “It's Bang. Bang Yonguk.”

Himchan watched him silently before huffing. “Damn it. That is cool.”

He couldn't help the laugh that rumbled out of his chest. “You see? That's why I was expecting you to have a fancy name.”

Himchan was quiet for a while, brow furrowed, and for a moment Yongguk thought he'd offended the other man. Then Himchan spoke up. “Bang Himchan.”

His breath caught. “What?”

Himchan tutted. “You see? It works for you, having a cool unique name like that. Not for me. Just sounds awkward. Kim Himchan works fine. It rolls off the tongue.”

“Kim Himchan,” Yongguk breathed out, “Yeah. I guess you're right.”

“I'm always right, Bang,” Himchan said, voice muffled as he brought a freshly opened bottle to his lips, “You'll come to see that.”

 

If it was cold outside, neither of them noticed. If it was dark, it didn't matter because Himchan was blind drunk and Yongguk was too focussed on keeping him steady as he half carried the man home to pay much attention to the state of the night. If the sky was clear for once and the stars sparkled down on the two men struggling to get safely indoors, neither of them noticed.

Yongguk had to take Himchan's key off him to get him into his own home, and had to half carry him up the stairs. If Himchan's home seemed nice and warm, very tidy and inviting, Yongguk was ignoring it. If Himchan's room was spacious and his bed huge, Yongguk was too busy focussing his attention on getting the younger man himself safely onto the massive mattress.

“You know,” Himchan was slurring, making the entire process incredibly difficult, “I wasson the phone t' my mother th'other day.”

“That's wonderful, Himchan, but you really should go to sleep.”

“An' she wazzaskin' if I had a boyfrien' yet...”

“I'm sure it was a very meaningful conversation you probably shouldn't be telling me.” He looked around, hoping there might be something he could use to put next to the bed should Himchan throw up in the night.

“An' you know what I told her?”

“I could guess, but I think you should probably not say.” He dragged the bedroom bin over to the side of the bed.

“I told her I was seein' someone... I jus' made up this fake boyfriend....”

“That was probably a bad idea. You should be truthful with your mother.” He looked around, then stepped outside into the hallway and glanced about. “One moment.”

“Yongguk!” Himchan called after him as he half-jogged down the hallway, “Baaaaaang!”

“I'm still here, one moment.” He took the glass that held the toothbrush in it, rinsed it out a few times then filled it with water and carried it back. “Drink all of this.”

“I think 've had enough t' drink.”

“It's water. Drink it.”

Himchan obliged and spilled most of it on himself, but still got a number of mouthfuls down his throat.

“I'll fill it up again and leave it on the nightstand, okay?”

“Bang. Yongguk. Wait, I gotta tell you soemthin'”

“I'm sure it can wait.” He went back to the bathroom and filled the glass, ignoring Himchan's calls until he walked back. “I'm putting it here for you,” he explained, setting the glass down on the nightstand.

“Yongguk,” Himchan reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him down until their faces were so close he could count ever one of Himchan's eyelashes. “I told her your name... I didn't mean to... It jus' sorta slipped out. She thinks I'm datin' you now...”

“She's... Never met me...” It was a struggle to speak coherantly.

“Yeah but she thinks... She thinks... I'm sorry, Yongguk, that was bad. It was a bad lie.”

“Yeah. Just... Clear things up with her, okay?” He swallowed.

“Promise... Promise I will...” Himchan let his arm go and relaxed into his bed.

“Goodnight Himchan.” Yongguk straightened himself up, backing away.

“G'night, night knight angel.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, instead flicking the light off and quietly letting himself out of Himchan's house. He half ran home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Souuntrack: OneRepublic - Counting Stars


	5. Damn Cold Night

The hall was lit with the sort of long florescent lights that would be hung up in school buildings and briefly gave Yongguk the nostalgic feeling of being a child. Outside the sun was low in the sky, harsh orange rays streaming in slices through the blinds. He sat with his back to the windows, keeping his eyes safe from the searing brightness.

The event he'd volunteered for was a Valentines Day speed-dating event for seniors, where single elderly could meet other elder singles and mingle and perhaps find love in their old age. It was a cute enough idea by itself, and had attracted his attention, but the discovery that the money the event made went towards helping the local homeless shelters had sealed the deal for him. Now he was among a number of other volunteers in a cheap but functional volunteer hoodie with his name printed across the back and meeting the rest of the team.

The entire thing would have been easy enough to do, regardless of his somewhat shy personality, had a rather well-kept elderly woman not been eyeing him up the whole time.

“So,” she struck up when there was a short break from event planning, “You're volunteering to help the homeless and elderly?”

“Ah, yes,” he replied, smiling and bowing his head a little. The scrutinising gaze of this woman made his skin jump a little.

“You seem quite young,” she commented offhandedly.

“Perhaps. I'm coming into my late twenties these days. Though friends sometimes say I seem much older.” He laughed nervously, and she gave him a small smile for his joke.

“You don't say,” she clicked her tongue as though mulling something over, “You wouldn't happen to know a young man by the name of Himchan would you?”

He blinked, slightly taken aback. “Uh, yes, actually. How did you know?”

A wry grin crossed her face. “He's my son.”

“Oh.” Then it clicked in his head. “Ah, I see.” He cleared his throat, readying himself to explain the situation.

“Don't you worry yourself, young man, I'm not some overbearing judgemental parent. If I was I imagine he wouldn't have had so much heartbreak up until now.”

“Um, actually-”

“No, let me finish.”

He snapped his mouth shut.

“I may not be an overbearing parent, but I am his mother and I worry about him a lot. You seem nice and I was a little hurt that he'd kept you a secret, but I can understand that from his perspective he's worried that things will go badly for him again and he'll feel embarrassed.”

Yongguk opened his mouth to say something before this all went too far, but she cut him off again with a stern look.

“Look, I don't mean to frighten you, but don't break my boy's heart. He's had it hard enough with the trouble he goes through on a daily basis, so I need you to promise me that you'll look after him.”

“I-”

“Promise me,” she fixed him with a stern look and he swallowed.

It was too late to back out at this point. Her expression was so sincere and for a moment he imagined the Himchan he knew, all smiles and laughter, and wondered how much of him was just walls and walls over his anxiety and true self. “Of course,” he found himself saying.

She smiled, “Glad to hear it.”

 

Yongguk zipped his coat up to his neck, his hood sticking out of the cop of his collar. The night was cold and the clouds hung heavy like rain was a potential threat. A grim breeze rattled through the gaps between buildings and ripped at his hair. The streetlight above him flicked. He threw his hood up to protect his face from the cold and marched on.

Unsurprisingly, just as he neared the warehouses he spotted a familiar long figure tugging his collar up against the cruel wind, paused beneath the streetlight that bathed him in silvery light.

“Himchan,” he called out, voice loud over the whistle of the wind.

Himchan turned and flinched, before calming. “Oh, Yongguk, it's you. You looked like... Never mind...”

He caught up to the younger man and frowned a little, opening his mouth.

“Look I-”

“Listen-”

They both shut their mouths at the same time.

“You first,” Yongguk suggested.

Himchan took a deep breath. “I'm... I'm sorry about the other night. I get really silly when I'm drunk and I don't really think about other people. Please just ignore everything I said or did. I'm going to call my mother tonight and explain everything. I'm really sorry that I messed up like that.”

Yongguk tried to ignore the way his chest clenched and how much he wanted to pull Himchan into his arms. “Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I volunteered to work at this event recently and ran into your mother there...”

“Oh... Crap. What did she say?”

Himchan gave him such a worried look, eyes wide and lip drawn between his teeth, shoulders hunched and brows knitting together, that Yongguk swallowed everything he'd been about to say. “Nothing, really. She just thinks I'm dating you.”

“You didn't try to tell her otherwise?”

“She seemed so excited about it... Also she mentioned later on that you're attending the volunteer event as well and I thought it might be awkward if we were both there and she knew you'd lied to her...”

Himchan rubbed his face. “Okay. Fair enough. Look, I'm really sorry about this. This is just a one-time thing I promise. I'll pretend we broke up after.”

“Uh,” Yongguk shifted awkwardly, “You don't have to do that. She seems nice. It might make her happy.”

Himchan eyed him suspiciously. “Okay. But I'll try to fix it either way. Honestly, I'm really sorry.”

“No, it's fine. I don't mind.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Come on, it's no big deal. No point standing around worrying about it. The sky looks pretty bad and I don't want to get rained on.”

“Right, we should move.”

.They grinned awkwardly at each other and plunged themselves into the darkness

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Avril Lavigne - I'm With You


	6. North Star

The hall was lit with the gentle warm glow of fake candles and the setting sun through the windows. Himchan would be lying if he said the event wasn't incredibly sweet. All around him elderly people were dressed in their finest, chatting happily between each other as drinks were served. He, himself, had acquired a glass and was happily nursing while he chatted with Yongguk.

“I don't know why you're so amazed by it,” Yongguk was saying, bashfully refusing to look at him, “Doesn't everyone want to help children in need? It's not a huge stretch to do.”

“It is! A lot of people are more concerned with having and looking after their own children. I know I'm more interested in caring for a child that I can actually hold,” Himchan replied.

Yongguk raised an eyebrow.

“What? I consider myself a maternal person.”

Both of Yongguk's eyebrows raised.

“Paternal! I meant paternal. Don't look at me like that. People just dont consider sponsoring as something to do.”

Yongguk frowned, “The children I sponsor are just as much a part of my family as any child.”

“You see,” He gestured a hand at him as if displaying the older man for everyone, “That's special. That's a really admirable thing.”

“It's really not.” Youngguk was shifting nervously now, neck going slightly red under the attention.

Just as Himchan opened his mouth to say something else, the cool tones of his mother's voice cut him off.

“You two don't have to be subtle, you know. No one here is paying you any mind.”

“Mother,” Himchan lowered his voice, disapproval strong in his voice, “please don't say things like that.”

“You can hold hands if you like-”

“Mother-”

“No one would notice a quick ki-”

Himchan cleared his throat loudly and his mother gave him a reproachful look. He frowned at her and she raised her eyebrows in response. With a small jerk of his head in Yongguks direction and a very meaningful stare at her, she seemed to get the message. Glancing between them, she gave Yongguk a smile and Himchan a quick wink before gliding away to attend to the other volunteers.

“What was that?” Yongguk knitted his brows together and raised his drink to his mouth.

“Nothing. She's just nosey and I wanted to throw her off. She thinks I'm trying to talk you into coming back to my place later.”

The drink lodged itself in the older's throat, choking him for a series of painfully stifled coughs. A gentle slap on the back from the younger seemed to clear his airway. “W-what?” He spluttered.

Himchan laughed, differently than usual, almost more genuine as though he hadn't meant to let it escape. “Don't worry about it. I'll make up something about us having different ideas about a relationship and say we went our separate ways and she'll be off your back.”

“I'm not sure I'm comfortable with her thinking-”

“I will tell her we never had sex, if it makes your imaginary-self more realistic.”

Yongguk eyed him for a moment before looking away, “Fine. I just don't want people getting the wrong impression of me.”

“So you're okay with being my fake temporary date but not the chance that fake us may have fake slept together?”

His face was heating up now. “I'm not- I'm not that kind of person. It's got to mean something. It has to... Are you laughing at me?”

“No!” Himchan stifled a snigger. “I'm not laughing at you, I promise. I'm just... You're a really good guy and that's nice to see for once, but you get so easily flustered.”

He frowned, nose crinkling a little, and locked his gaze onto his drink.

“It's cute.”

His ears burned.

Himchan couldn't hold back a chuckle. He glanced around, wondering if anyone had noticed this exchange, and spotted his mother staring at them from across the hall. He turned his attention back to Yonggk and lowered his voice so only the older could hear. “My mother's watching us- No, don't look, she'll get suspicious. I'm going to pretend to kiss you.”

Yongguks eyes widened in alarm and he glanced up at him.

“Hey, don't freak out, I won't actually kiss you. It's just to keep her off our backs, okay?”

He didn't response, instead choosing to nod mutely.

“Pretend I'm telling you something interesting and funny.”

It was awkward, but he managed to get a small grin onto his face.

“Good, good, we're talking... We're talking... You should probably pretend to say something interesting back..”

His mind was blank. “Like what?”

“That will do. Just say words.”

“Words... Talking...” It was like speaking another language.

“It's not the most imaginative fake conversation but it'll have to do.”

“How long to we need to keep this up?”

“Until the time is right.”

“When is that?”

Himchan glanced around, almost too exaggeratedly as though making doubly sure absolutely no one was looking his way yet completely missing the steady gaze of his mother on the two of them. “Now.”

Himchan's fingers brushed against his jaw, turning his face slightly to an angle as he leaned in. Yongguk's breath caught in his throat and he barely caught the quickly whispered “close your eyes” before he quickly obeyed. With no sense of sight to gage what Himchan was doing, his heart hammered in his chest. Hot breath ghosted over his mouth and for a moment he almost expected to feel the warm touch of Himchans lips, but it never happened. Instead Himchan was pulling away with a breathed out “done” and he was opening his eyes.

He'd kissed people before. It was hardly his first experience being that close to someone, but somehow it not being a kiss had made it far more intimate. The closeness with no contact. The trust that Himchan had put in him... His brain was reeling.

“And I'm saying something and I can just see her out of the corner of my eye and,” he gave another glance around, as if checking that no one had been watching while once again avoiding looking at his mother, “we're all good. No need to worry.” He grinned.

Yongguk swallowed.

“Your face looks like a tomato.”

“I don't... I'm not really used to people doing...”

“Not a PDA guy?”

He looked away, focussing his eyes back on his drink, “Doesn't matter. Don't let your mother get any wrong ideas. This is as much as I'm doing for your fake date story.”

Himchan felt a slight pang in his chest,but made sure it didn't affect his expression. “That's fair enough. I won't do it again. I am really sorry about today. I'll make it up to you somehow.”

“You can owe me a few rounds of drinks.” Yongguk glanced up at him, giving him a small smile

He couldn't hold back his relieved grin. “You got it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Owl City - Galaxies


	7. My Shining Star

Yongguk flicked the lights of the practice room on, enjoying the absolute silence of a well sound-proofed studio. There were no windows, so no natural light could illuminate the room, only the clinical white overhead lamps that reflected off the white walls. He set his bag down in the corner as he waited for today's session to begin. He'd be working with Junhong again today, developing his annunciation and seeing how fast he could spit before it needed further practice. It would be a lot of vocal warm-ups today.

As he was just turning his phone off so as to make sure it wouldn't badger him during the session, the young trainee he'd been waiting for slipped into the room.

“Ah, Junhong, You're early. Is there something you wanted?” He tucked his phone away in a pocket in his bag and straightened up to look at the younger boy.

“Uhh, not really.” Despite this, the kid had a strange knowing grin on his face.

He frowned, “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing really...” Junhong looked around the room as though he'd never seen it before, fantastically interested in the walls, “I just didn't know you were seeing someone.”

He blinked. “Seeing... Someone?”

“There's pictures of you and him at a Valentine's day event on Facebook.”

He internally kicked himself. Of course he'd been tagged in the photos. This is what happened when you had your students on social media. “No, Junhong, we're not seeing each other. That's ridiculous. He's just a friend who's mother was involved – it was a coincidence that we ran into each other there.”

“Hmm,” Junhong still had that knowing look on his face, “I don't know. I don't usually do this with my friends.”

Yongguk was baffled for a moment, until the younger boy pulled his phone out and turned the screen to him. There was a still image of him and Himchan, the other man's hand on his face and their lips so close that he'd have said they were touching if he didn't know better. Even from the distance the photo was taken, his blush was clear. And, he was surprised to see, so was Himchan's.

“That's not-” he cleared his throat, “That's not what it looks like.”

“Please,” Junhong rolled his eyes, “You don't have to keep it a secret! I'm glad you found someone!”

“Junhong, It's not-”

“You're really cute together!”

“Junhong-”

“Don't worry, I won't say anything to any of the others. But They probably already know.”

Yongguk's stomach sank.

Junhong seemed to pick up on this, because he quickly added, “I'm sure they're all just as happy. No one here is gonna judge you or anything. We're all here for you.”

“That's not quite what I'm worried about,” he mumbled.

“Um?” Junhong tilted his head a little.

“Doesn't matter. Listen, lets just get on with today's session and forget this whole thing.”

“Okay, I'll stop talking about your secret new boyfriend~”

“He's not- Oh my god.” He buried his face in hands. There was no way he was going to talk his way out of this and be believed.

 

Himchan leaned back in his chair, nibbling at his lunch and gazing out of the window. Unfortunately his current teaching room was on the side of the building that got the least light, and he often had to judge when the room had become so dim that it required turning the lights on. In the summer it wasn't so bad, but it was still late-winter and reading sheet music in poor conditions was a strain on everybody. He was just lifting his drink to his lips when someone burst into his classroom.

“Himchan! I found you!”

He lowered his drink and glanced irritably over to the intruder, only for his face to soften a little. “Jonguppie! To what do I owe the pleasure? Come in, grab a seat if you can find one that isn't a stool.”

Jongup grinned and dragged a chair over, sitting on it backwards and resting his arms over the back. “You know, I always thought we were pretty good friends.”

Himchan frowned a little. “We are. You're easily one of my favourite people. Why? Did someone say something? Is that scoundrel Daehyun and his lackey Youngjae spreading nonsense again?”

Jongup himmed, “I always thought Daehyun was the lackey. Youngjae is definitely the smarter one.”

“Yeah, that's fair. I'll give you that one. Now cough up.”

“Cough up? Cough up what?”

Himchan rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Tell me why you've burst into the music college. Shouldn't you be practising some routine?”

“No, nothing until theory.” He remained quiet until Himchan glared at him, and a grin crossed his face. “I came to make sure we're still good friends.”

“Of course we are. What's gotten into you?”

“So we tell each other everything?”

“Apparently not, going by the way you're saying nothing at all.”

“Himchan!”

“Yes,” he sighed, “We definitely tell each other everything. Or at least I tell you everything, you are an enigma no matter what comes out of your mouth. In fact it's the things that do come out of your mouth that confuse me the most.”

Jongup rolled his eyes. “Anyway. I ask because you definitely haven't told me something.”

“What do you want to know now? Am I supposed to start informing you of every meal?”

“No, mostly about your new boyfriend.”

Himchan stared at him blankly. “Like I said, you are an enigma. What has that troublesome two been saying now?”

“Nothing. I got it off facebook.”

Himchan gave him a withering look. “Facebook? Honestly, Jongup, I thought you knew better than vague statuses on social media.”

“I do. But maybe I don't know better than photos?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Photos?”

Jongup dug in his pocket and produced his phone. He tapped it a few times before bringing up a photo and showing it to his older friend. “This one, specifically.”

It was nothing incriminating, as far as Himchan could make out. It was of the volunteer event and had been zoomed in so as to make him the focus of the screen. In the picture he was stood next to Yongguk, both of them with a drunk in hand, talking. Yongguk was clearly in the middle of telling him something, while he was smiling and listening.

“Ack, That's a terrible photo. Look at my face, it looks huge.” He reached out and flicked the phone, causing Jongup to nearly drop it.

“Hey! Ignore your stupid face for a moment and focus on your face.”

“That makes no sense.”

“This!” He zoomed in on Himchan's face, then out, then back in as though he were a dramatic camera effect.

“Stop doing that!” He reached out to smack the phone away again, but Jongup pulled it back. “I don't understand how this photo makes you think I have a boyfriend.”

“Look at the way you're smiling at him. You barely ever smile like that these days! Not since your last boyfriend.”

Himchan flinched as though the memory itself had hurt him. “Don't talk about him.”

“Sorry.” He put the phone away. “But you see? You never smile like that. There's also one of you kissing him but this one definitely shows it more.”

Himchan waved a dismissive hand. “I was pretending to kiss him. My mother thinks we're dating and I had to keep her off my back.”

“So he's a fake-boyfriend?”

“Exactly.”

“That you have feelings for?”

Himchan grabbed a pencil and flicked it at Jongup, who let it hit him. “No. Get that nonsense out of your head.”

Jongup was sniggering. “I see. You didn't tell me because you haven't told yourself yet.”

“What are you even on about?” He asked, but it was too late. Jongup was already getting up and dragging his chair away.

“You might want to check your facebook more, Himchan, people are talking.” And with that, he left.

“Idiot.” Himchan mumbled under his breath, and necked his drink.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: B.A.P - My Girl  
> (this song came out at the perfect time haha)


	8. So Late

The sky was grey, blotting out the stars with a white glowing smudge where the moon shone overhead. Himchan was surprised to see Yongguk waiting for him not far from the college, metal studs of his jacket softly shimmering in the low light like distant stars. Himchan loosened his scarf a little as he approached.

“Unusual for you to be around these parts,” He commented as he walked over.

“Not really, I pass through here on my way home usually. It's just that I leave a little later than I did today. By the time I catch up to you you're hanging around that road.” He started to head off, Himchan keeping in pace.

“I owe you a few drinks, right?” Himchan grinned and nudged him a little. “How about we try somewhere new? The last place had a little too much rabble happening for my liking.”

Yongguk barely contained a grin. Ah, the start of all their trouble. “There's a nice place not far from here. A bit busier but I've never had trouble.”

“Of course you haven't,” Himchan scoffed, “It's me I'm worried about.”

“You will be fine.” He gave the younger man a hearty pat on the shoulder as he lead them in the right direction.

 

They perched themselves at the bar, both leaning on the counter with feet propped against the stools' footrests. They had a pint each: Himchan's nearly empty and glass streaked with foam, Yongguk's at a moderate halfway point. It was busy, but open and spacious with an older and more traditional feeling to the whole décor. It was clear why Yongguk enjoyed it, it was very much to his style.

“I'm surprised you know Daehyun,” Himchan was saying, eyeing the last few dregs of his beer.

Yongguk raised his eyebrows. “Why? I told you that we met through the music industry.”

“I mean- I don't know... You're too good for that grease ball.”

Yongguk barely stifled a low chuckle behind his sleeve.

“I'm serious! Jung Daehyun is easily one of the worst people I have ever met. He's annoying as hell, rude, snarky and so in-your-face... Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sorry,” Yongguk grinned and lowered his glass from his face where he'd been staring at Himchan as he drank. “I think maybe we'renot talking about different Daehyuns? The Daehyun I know is a really cheerful, well-mannered, respectful guy. Sure he's a bit excitable at times but he never gets in my space.”

“I'm sorry, are you talking about some alien Daehyun that has kidnapped the real Daehyun?” Himchan narrowed his eyes, “The one with the ball of pure evil for a best friend by the name of Yoo Youngjae?”

“Ah, yeah I've met Youngjae. He's a friendly guy, seems nice.”

“No?” Himchan nearly knocked his glass over with the force of his hands flying around as he talked, “Yoo Youngjae is pure evil. He's sarcastic, dangerous and smart as a fox. If it was just Daehyun I could handle it, but those two together are chaotic.”

“They seemed okay to me when they were around. They're really close friends, its good to see guys who can be like that with each other.” Yongguk reached out and moved Himchan's glass further away from the edge of the surface top.

“You've been lied to, Bang. Deceived. Duped.”

“I don't think so. Maybe they just treat you how you treat them.”

“I'm offended. I take back everything – you deserve all the trouble they will inevitably bring you.”

“Don't be like that.”

“Too late. I am a kindly angel who treats those two with nothing but love. And if they need some tough love, so be it.”

“Perhaps a little bit too much tough love, then?”

“There is no such thing for those two.”

“I wonder which version of them is the real version,” Yongguk hummed, “I hope it's the one I see.”

“It isn't.” Himchan assured him.

“Well, that's something we'll have to work out if we can get the two of them in the same room as the both of us – sober, of course – then we'll know.” He stood slowly and stretched, “but for now, I'm going to quickly use the bathroom. I'll be a minute.”

“I'm going to buy myself another drink then.”

“I'm not surprised.”

He watched Yongguk walk away and snorted a little. He turned and attempted to hail the attention of the barkeep, but was quickly distracted by someone sliding into the vacant stool beside him.

 

Yongguk rubbed his hands against his trousers as he exited the men's room and made his way back to the bar. At first he thought Himchan had left, not able to see his seat, but then he locked eyes with the younger man's. The gaze was desperate and pleading, flooding with relief as he approached.

“Ah, babe, you're back,” Himchan said in a smooth, almost sing-song tone as he reached a hand out to grab Yongguk's. The action took him so by surprise that he didn't attempt to stop it.

“Um,” he just about managed, when Himchan cut him off with a meaningful look.

“It's getting pretty late, don't you think, hun?”

He glanced at the man who had taken his space, who was eyeing him up and down like he was deciding if it was worth trying anything. Reluctantly, he let his face settle into something of a protective glare. “Yeah. Let's go.” Without giving Himchan much warning, he secured his grip on his hand and yanked him up off the stool.

“We were just in the middle of a conversation, man,” the stranger said, looking like he might stand up, “I just bought the guy a drink.”

“Good for you, now you have an extra drink to yourself.” With another yank on Himchan's hands, their fingers aggressively locked together like the teeth of a zip, he headed out of the bar with a stony expression on his face.

“Bang,” Himchan tried as they stepped outside. The clouds had thickened and hidden the moon now, leaving them in near total darkness.

Yongguk didn't reply, on ripped his hand free and shoved it in his pocket, starting to walk home.

“Bang, come on! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag you into it again but- He wouldn't leave me alone!” He jogged a little to catch up, stomach tense with guilt.

“You said you wouldn't do this act again. It would be fine if it had just been a few times but it's nearly every time I spend any length of time with you. Can't you speak out for yourself?”

“No one listens to me! Look, I'm really sorry. It just happens.”

“Sure.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

 

They reached their turn off, and Himchan stopped. Yongguk didn't give him a slightest glance as he went to head down his path home.

“Bang, please can we just talk about this a moment?”

“What's to talk about? You're not going to do it again.” He stopped nonetheless and sighed.

“Look, please let me make this up to you.”

“What, with more drinks at another bar where you'll need me to rescue you again? My own students think I'm having some secret relationship, my family have been asking about the photos and it's been a nightmare to keep my brother off my back. Now people I barely now from being sort-of a regular think I've got a boyfriend. This needs to stop.” He half regretted what he'd said when he finally turned around and seen the hurt expression on Himchan's face, each worry-line accentuated by the gentle yellowish glow of the street light, but it needed to be out in the open.

“Yeah. I know. I'm really sorry. I swear I'll get it all sorted out – I'll clear it up with my mother and see about getting pictures taken down or something. I'm really sorry.”

The absolute sincerity in Himchan's voice nearly broke his heart. “Okay, I shouldn't have got angry. That wasn't okay. It's just been eating at me.”

“No, no, you have every reason to be angry at me. I'll have the photos taken down and be out of your hair. You won't hear from me again, don't worry.” His shoulders had slumped, making his usually proud stature made smaller than ever. The street lamp dimmed for a moment and flickered.

“No,” Yongguk groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Listen, I like you. You're funny and good to talk to, you just... Need to stop using me, okay? That's all I'm asking. I don't want to drop contact or anything.” He dropped his gaze down to his feet as he spoke, but glanced up quickly.

Himchan looked like he'd been handed an oasis in the desert. “Okay. Okay, great. I would still like to make it up to you, though. I've been a lot of trouble-”

“No bars. No drinks.”

“No! Definitely. Um, how about lunch?”

Yongguk seemed to consider it a little. “Between friends?”

“Yeah, just friends.”

“Where?”

“I'm not sure yet. If you give me your number I can message plans to you and we can work something out?”

“Sure,” Yongguk grinned, glad to see Himchan looking relaxed again, “that works fine.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Hinder - Lips of an Angel


	9. Light Up The Sky

Lunch ended up being toasted sandwiches and coffee in a warm, modern café on a rainy Saturday afternoon. The sleek interior with it's minimalist decoration and soft mood music, though not at all to Yongguk's taste, felt like the right place to be. It was definitely the sort of place he could picture Himchan visiting in his spare time. The man looked so comfortable in his surroundings, so naturally a part of this sophisticated yet independent world with its encompassing smell of roasted coffee beans and black napkins. It had been a surprise when he'd ordered an iced coffee, Yongguk had pinned him more of a cappuccino sort of guy.

He'd like to have spent more time thinking about Himchan's beverages, musing over if it was just this drink in particular or if he also preferred iced tea. He'd liked to have given more attention to the café and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. He'd like to have made himself comfortable with the warm drink between his palms as Himchan talked about his week and his life. He'd have liked that to have been what they did at lunch.

Instead, Himchan had him fixed with a stern look as he squirmed in the uncomfortable rigid wooden seat.

“So let me get this straight,” he said slowly in that deep, rough voice, each syllable cutting into Yongguk's conscience, “despite everything that you said to me last time we saw each other, you went ahead and used me as a fake boyfriend – when I wasn't even there – to get out of a difficult situation.”

Yongguk felt like shoving his face into his drink. The physical scalds would hurt less than the emotional one he was getting. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“That's exactly what it sounds like happened, so if you can tell me I'm wrong I'd love to hear it.” He closed his lips around his straw, sucking the liquid up with eyebrows raised. He swallowed with a soft noise, adam's apple bobbing a little.

Yongguk drew his gaze away and looked down at his drink. He didn't have an answer.

“Hm, that's what I thought.” Himchan tapped the table with his fingertips, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Yongguk let his gaze wander up as he took a breath to say something, but dragged his back down quickly.

“Well, I suppose despite the drinks and lunch I do owe you a lot. I can pose as your fake boyfriend so your friends will leave you alone, but we have to agree this is the last time we fake-date otherwise it'll just get out of hand.”

Yongguk let out a relieved sigh. “Yeah, definitely the last time. No offence but I don't want to fake-date you ever again.”

“Too bad, I am offended.” Himchan straightened himself up indignantly.”

“Ah! No, I'm sorry! I meant... I prefer to properly date people, you know?”

There was a very long silence while Himchan's eyes widened slowly and his eyebrows raised into his hairline. Yongguk felt his whole face burn and almost wished he had just poured his drink over himself instead.

“That came out wrong,” Yongguk spluttered out, “That's- I meant fake-dating just feels untruthful and doesn't sit right with me...” He buried his face in his hands, whole body screaming with embarrassment.

To make it worse, Himchan was laughing into his palm. A few people had glanced over at them, mildly curious as to what had happened, but lost interest soon enough. Himchan reached out and gently pulled his hands from his face.

“Calm down, Bang. That's hardly the worst slip of the tongue. We've all sworn in front of children.”

He frowned. “I sure as hell haven't.”

“Oh.” This didn't seem to bother Himchan at all as he sipped his coffee, chin in hand.

Yongguk shook his head a little, raising his mug to his face.

“So what am I expected to wear to this night out with your friends?”

“Uh,” he frowned, drink still to his lips, “I don't know, whatever you want.”

“Well it depends on what we're doing and who your friends are.”

“We're just going out for drinks and live music. They're just some guys, you know?”

“Okay but are they straight guys? Are they expecting me to be open about our pretend relationship or act like I'm casual about the whole thing?”

Yongguk frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Am I doing a shirt and skinny jeans or am I doing gold leather booty shorts?”

He choked on his coffee, stifling his coughs into his arm. Himchan watched him with a smug grin.

“I'm joking, of course. But I do need to know if I'm expected to be hanging on your arm the whole time of if I'll just be one of the guys who happens to suck your dick sometimes.”

Yongguk bit his tongue to stop himself screaming. “Never say anything like that again. Just... I don't know, be how you usually are? It's just one night, don't worry about it.”

Himchan hummed a little and pocked his tongue out to drag his straw back into his mouth, drinking thoughtfully. Yongguk buried himself in his own drink, half wishing he'd choked to death.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Yellowcard - Light Up The Sky


	10. Underneath The Moon And Stars

The bar was a little bit grimy, a little bit too loud and a little bit too dark for Himchan's liking. It stank of spilled alcohol and cigarettes and sweat and he'd had to un-peel himself from the seat so often that he'd given up on it entirely. Now, with his drink resting on his stomach with both hands holding it steady, he lay across Yongguk's lap with the man's slim fingers carding through his hair.

They hadn't planned to look this couple-y, it had just sort of happened. They'd begun the night sat close to each other, Yongguk's arm slung on the back of the seat behind Himchan. As Yongguk's friends talked to him and as more rounds of drinks were bought they become jostled more close together, Himchan's head on Yongguk's shoulder and Yongguk's hand on Himchan's thigh. Then there had been more drinks and a few people had left early, meaning the booth seats around the two of them were cleared up for Himchan to eventually lie himself across.

They may have had a few too many drinks, but with the way Yongguk's nails were scratching his head, Himchan could not have cared less. Someone around him mentioned another round of drinks and he raised a hand in agreement.

“Don't you think you've had enough to drink?” Yongguk's low voice rumbled from above him.

He pouted and scowled up at the blur he assumed to be the man's face. “I disagree.” There was a laugh and suddenly he was being shifted from his lying position, awkwardly being pulled up to sit.

“You're so drunk.”

“Am not.” The world leaned dangerously around him.

“Okay, we should head off. Come on.” Yongguk slid an arm around his waist, pulling him up.

Himchan closed his eyes and clung onto him, wishing the world would just hold still for a moment. He felt the other man slowly guide him out of the booth and towards the exit. The sudden rush of cold air as he stepped outside cleared his head a little. Then a cold drop of water hit him in the face.

“Ah, shit, it's raining!”

Himchan opened his eyes properly and groaned. The sky was a dark grey, thick clouds staining the sky with darker smears. Rain fell and crashed around them, making the ground reflect the lights from the bar. In unison they yanked their hoodless jackets up over their heads and ran down the road. They stumbled unsteadily, grabbing each other to avoid falling over or crashing into things. They somehow managed to make it to their usual break-off point unscathed, but completely soaked.

“How far away to your place?” Himchan asked, grabbing hold of the streetlamp and only barely registering how cold and filthy it was.

“About twenty minutes-”

“Fuck that, come back to my place, it's closer.”

If Yongguk was going to argue, Himchan didn't get the chance. He grabbed him by the hand and dragged him the short walk back to his own place. The rain lashed against them with vigour, clattering on the pavements and house rooftops. By the time they reached Himchan's door the sky was turning black and rumbling.

“Stupid- fucking- key!” Himchan fumbled with said key. Either he was too drunk to be coordinated or he was so cold that his hand was shaking too much, but he couldn't get it into he lock properly.

“Let me help.” Yongguk placed his own hand on top of Himchans to steady his grip. A crack of lightning lit up the street, momentarily illuminating the lock perfectly for him to slide the key into place. The door clicked open.

They staggered inside, shutting the door quickly and were met with the sudden muffled quiet of the indoors. Himchan palmed the wall a few times before managing to get the lights on.

“Ugh, I liked this jacket.” He peeled the soaked article from his body and threw it onto a hanger, ignoring the puddle it made. “You should get your wet clothes off too, you'll get ill.” He told the shivering man, yanking off his own shirt without much care.

“Uh, no. I'll be fine. You should change into dry clothes, though.” Yongguk had looked away from him, cheeks pink from alcohol or the cold or something else that Himchan couldn't identify.

“What? No, you'll get sick.” He frowned and approached the soaked man, swaying a little but managing to grab the hem of his shirt and lift it a bit.

“Ah, wait!” Yongguk grabbed his hands to stop him. “What are you doing?” His face was definitely redder.

“Getting you out of your wet clothes, what does it look like?” As soon as he said this, a few points clicked together in his head. He looked down at their hands and the few inches of exposed stomach – amazingly toned abs. His gaze moved up to Yongguk's burning cheeks. He smirked.

Yongguk gulped audibly.

“Why, don't you want me to get you out of your clothes?”

The older's breath hitched, eyes widening a little.

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer.

“Maybe,” came Yongguk's breathy reply.

They gazed at one another silently for a moment, waiting for one of them to break the tension. Yongguk's tongue flicked out for a moment to lick his lips, a flash of pink against red. Himchan caved and half threw himself on the other man, crashing their mouths together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:Tokio Hotel - Love Who Loves You Back


	11. Empty Nights

NSFW chapter,to skip smut skip to bullet point

* * *

 

Yongguk stumbled back, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the mattress, and he fell down onto the bed. Himchan followed him down, falling onto him with hands tearing at his clothes. The soaked tshirt was rolled off his torso, exposing chiseled abs and pecks shining from where the rain had soaked through. Himchan stared in awe.

“Um...” Yongguk shifted a little under his gaze,not used to such intense attention.

“Holy shit you're hot,” Himchan murmured, voice low and husky, before he leaned in and pressed his hot tongue against a brown nipple, a hand splaying out on the firm stomach.

“Oh- fuck!” He jerked a little, face immediately heating up. His hands jumped into the younger's hair and yanked his face up to meet his own, kissing him open-mouthed and messily. The strong smell of expensive cologne and rain washed over him. Himchan responded eagerly, tongue laced with the bitter taste of alcohol sliding into his mouth and hips grinding down against his own. The moan escaped his mouth before he even realised it had happened, nearly drowned out by the rumbling of the storm outside.

As though spurred on by the sound, Himchan slid both hands down to grasp his hips, hands strong and firm that shocked Yongguk in a way that he couldn't explain to himself in his drunken state. His hips rolled down against him, the fabric of their clothes rubbing between them that was both everything and not enough at the same time. His hands slid from Himchan's hair, dropping down to his belt.

The musician wasted no time ripping open his belt and jeans, shuffling out of the tight garment as he tore at the rapper's trousers, yanking them down in one swift movement. Yongguk kicked them off, only just coordinated enough to avoid kicking the other in the process and get them off his legs and off the bed. He couldn't help but stare at the thick smooth thighs that made his own legs look like twigs. He swallowed the urge to bite into them.

“How many tattoos do you have?” Himchan's fingers were dancing over the intricate 'make art not war' ink on his right biceps.

“Three, thinking of getting a fourth one.” He settled his hands on his smooth hips, marvelling at the tone difference of their skin. The dim light made the pale skin beneath his hands almost glow like a ghost.

“Where's the third?” Himchan's dark eyes were slowly raking down his body, settling on his still clothed crotch where his hard-on was bulging prominently.

“My back...”

“Guess I won't see it 'till later then.” With that, the younger leaned down and pressed their mouths together again, settling his hands on Yongguk's shoulder and ground his hips down purposefully, settling into a firm unrelenting rhythm.

He rocked his hips up in sync, their hard arousals rutting against one another through the thin cloth. Sweat beaded on their skin, streams of it rolling down their already wet bodies. Himchan's hair stuck to his face as it broke free from the product he used to keep it in place, tickling at his brow. Their lips broke apart just enough so they could breathe, but close enough so that when Yongguk wet his lips the tip of his tongue caught Himchan's prominent cupids bow.

The younger repositioned himself, pushing his top half further away so his weight was put more on Yongguk's hips and letting each movement become almost a full body-roll that sent the rapper's back arching, nails digging into his skin. Their breathing was heavy and laboured, moans falling freely from their lips in low raspy tones. By now damp patches had soaked through the material of their underwear, most of it sweat but how much of precome neither could tell.

Yongguk stared up at the beautiful man above him, hazy and unfocused in his semi-drunken state. He found his gaze settling on the moles that decorated his shoulders and collarbone, tiny flecks of brown like paint splats on a blank canvas. He imagined placing soft, delicate kisses on each one in the morning light.

Himchan shifted his hips a little and let out a particularly loud moan, head thrown back and mouth hanging open. Lightning flashed outside and lit the room, bleaching everything for a moment and contouring every curve and edge on the man's body, skin glistening. The image burned itself into Yongguk's mind – black and white, clear and sharp, a perfect painting of ecstasy.

The room darkened again and Himchan's head fell forward, their eyes meeting. Whatever look of rapture that was on Yongguk's face had powerful effect on the musician. His hips jerked down, hands tensing on the other's shoulders and teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Barely half a second later and his mouth dropped open again to let out a raspy, drawn-out moan.

Without thinking for a moment, Yongguk sat up and yanked the younger man closer, hand cupping his ass as he ground his hips up with a new force. Himchan gasped and mewled, clawing at his chest as the friction continued against his hypersensitive member. A few movements later and he buried his face against his neck, muffling a deep growl against the pale skin as he released.




They stayed like that a moment, skin stuck together and panting desperately to regain breath. Slowly they peeled away from one another, flushed pink with afterglow. The world felt stuffy and muted, the sounds of the weather outside quieter now as the wind started to settle. The bed was warm, soft beneath them and inviting. Yongguk felt sticky and a little bit uncomfortable but he didn't mind all that much. Himchan seemed mostly unphased as well, lying beside him with eyes closed.

He reached a hand out and brushed the dark locks from the musician's pink face, letting his fingers stroke over a sculpted cheekbone as he pulled it away. He watched his eyelashes as the man opened his eyes, blinking a few times. The perfectly shaped lips pulled a little at the corners, and Yongguk half wanted to lean in and kiss where the soft cheek squashed at the edge of his mouth.

“I like you in the dark,” he found himself mumbling quietly.

Himchan blinked once and looked over him, face more difficult to make out at this angle in the shadows. “Why?”

“You seem more real.” He could just make out Himchan's brow furrow at this.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He raised his hands a little, gesturing vaguely. “You seem so... I don't know... Ethereal. In the light. In low light it makes your features subtler... You seem attainable, I guess.” He must still be very drunk, he thought, to be rambling like this.

Himchan let out a groan. “Oh. Fuck.”

“What's wrong?”

“Fuck. I should've seen this coming. Fuck.” Himchan pushed himself up and dragged himself off the bed.

Yongguk sat up again, watching him, confused. “I don't understand. Did I say something wrong?”

Himchan yanked a hanging dressing gown from his wardrobe and threw it on himself. “You should go home.”

He stepped out of the bed, suddenly very aware of the mess between his legs. “What did I do?”

“Oh no, don't bother yourself with it. It's not you – it's every single guy. Every single one. Just... Just leave. We shouldn't have done this.” He picked up Yongguk's discarded clothes, still drenched, and tossed them towards him.

“No, wait, can we talk about this?” Yongguk picked his shirt up, pulling it on and felt his skin prickle at the sudden cold.

“No. Just get out of my house, Bang. This was a stupid mistake.”

Yongguk felt his chest clench, but he bit his tongue and finished dressing himself. Himchan accompanied him down stairs and stood in the hallway as he pulled his jacket on and stood by the door. The weather was no longer roaring outside, but the storm was hardly done. He set a hand on the door handle and glanced back.

“See you soon?”

“Maybe not.” Himchan's arms were crossed, hair still scraped back where Yongguk had touched it barely any time before.

He swallowed and nodded, then stepped out into the rain.

The sky above him twisted and coiled like great black and grey snakes writhing among each other. The rain, though no longer as heavy, was unrelenting and bit his skin in cold stabs. His body shook, either from the cold or the disaster going on inside him he couldn't tell.

It was a long walk home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Skillet - Better Than Drugs


	12. Lights Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Rick Astley - Lights Out

Himchan turned the shower on and stood beneath the spray, letting the water wash over him and clear away the dried sweat and dirty rain. The heat seeped into his skin, relaxing the knots in his muscles until he found himself leaning forward, forehead pressed against the cool tile and water cascading down his back. He could feel the mess between his thighs slowly wash away, leaving all traces of the previous night gone.

Good.

He let out a long, slow breath and closed his eyes, then immediately opened them again. In the darkness behind his eyelids were images of red tinted tattoos, thick lips parted and glistening tan skin. He shook his head viciously, wet hair flicking the walls with droplets that hit the tiles loudly. He straightened himself up and put his face directly beneath the jet of water, eyes closing once again.

Soft eyes gazed at him in the darkness, wide and shining with awe. He felt a jolt of heat between his legs and slammed his hand down on the temperature dial, dropping it to freezing. The cold water blasted him like a wall of ice scraping over his skin. He stood there under the vicious freezing spray until he was shaking with cold and fingers going numb.

Shower off and towel wrapped around him, he marched the walk of shame to his bedroom. He hadn't slept in his own bed the previous night. He'd ended up curled up on his sofa with a half-empty bottle of wine, wrapped in his dressing gown and feeling thoroughly miserable about life. Now he stood outside the ajar door and gazed into the dimly lit room.

The air was stale with the heavy smell of sex. He brushed his way across the floor and tore the curtains apart, throwing the windows open as far as they would go to let in a cold early-spring breeze. The cold air prickled his skin and made him shudder. He turned slowly and his eyes landed on the mess of the bed.

The sheets thankfully weren't stained, but as soon as he lifted the duvet a strong musk wafted up to him and consumed his senses. Despite his very core insisting he shouldn't, he pulled the material up to his face and inhaled. The rich stench of cologne and sweat filled him, making him momentarily cuddle into the duvet. He threw it away with a jerk, letting out a sharp gasp.

He shook his hands and let out a heavy breath, then stripped the bed as quickly as he could manage and bundled everything up. He strode through the house and shoved the sheets straight into the washing machine, turning it on and leaning back against it. He pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes and shook his head, then went back upstairs.

Loose tshirt. Sweatpants. Fuck underwear. He scraped his still damp hair from his face and stared into a mirror. His reflection stared back, barefaced and pale.

His breath hitched. Once, twice, lip trembling. He blinked a few times, eyes glistening a little in the light. He raised his hands to wipe his eyes, rubbing them vigorously, and swallowed. The solid lump in his throat stung and scraped, making it hard to breathe. He inhaled, making a dry wheezing sound, and let out a long shaky breath. He moved his hands up to scrape through his hair, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. His eyes were slightly red now, the skin around raw from being rubbed too hard. He looked away and swallowed the lump.

Grabbing his desk mirror, he positioned himself on his bedroom floor by the window and scattered his products out around him. Carefully measuring each squeeze, he rubbed scrubs into his face and then applied various creams, massaging the skin with measured pushes of his fingers. His skin softened and glowed under his touch, each stress line and patch of worried skin fading beneath his ministrations. He reached out for the last bottle and went to pop it open, but the lid was jammed.

He struggled for a moment, nails slipping on its wet lid, then it gave way with a pop so forceful his hand jerked back and slammed against his own jaw. He cursed at the ache in his face, then saw that the expensive liquid had spilled out across the floor, staining the carpet and leaving barely a few drops left.

He stared at the mess. There was a huge dark streak across his carpet, soaked in too deep to scrub out in time, that stank of fruits and chemicals. The now mostly empty bottle had cost him a lot of his savings and should have lasted him years. He'd only had it a few months. He carefully put the lid back on without using any of what was left and set it down.

His throat burned again and he swallowed. Deep breaths. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

Mechanically, he gathered his products up and set them back in their respective places before heading to the kitchen. He filled his arms with various cleaning products and carried them upstairs before getting to work. He gloved his hands and grabbed a cloth to scrub at the stain, spraying carpet cleaner into it. His arms ached with the effort of his cleaning and he could feel his nails being damaged.

Breathe. In the nose. Out the mouth.

The fumes burned his eyes. He eventually relented and left some foam on the stain to sink in, hoping it would lift the worst of the stain. He took everything back downstairs and spent a moment staring at his nails in the kitchen.

He located a file and carefully worked on shaping his nails to accommodate the way they'd bent and chipped. He shaped them carefully, precisely, each one as neat and even as the next and then buffed to perfection. The new edges shone smoothly. He opened a bottle of varnish and went to apply it, but found his hands were shaking too much, so he pressed one hand against the counter and breathed slowly as he carefully, more carefully than he'd ever done before, spread the clear liquid over his nails. The other hand was just as difficult, if not more so, but he managed to get a good even cover. He admired his work and let out a satisfied sigh. Everything was in order again.

He waved his hands as he walked through his house, encouraging the varnish to dry. He caught his reflection in the mirror of his sitting room and stopped, then stepped back to look at himself.

He looked exhausted. His eyes were red and the lines on his face had come back with a force. The bruise on his face had swollen and deformed his jawline in a horrible blue lump, making the rest of his skin look washed-out. A sheen of sweat had built on his forehead from scrubbing and running about his house, and despite his nails being back in shape his hands looked stiff and red. Locks of hair had fallen out of place, hanging over his face or sticking out at awkward angles.

He blinked. He blinked again. His eyes were stinging and he kept trying to blink them clean but somehow his vision was going blurry. Something hot was burning his cheeks and he raised his hands, finding them shaking viciously as he wiped his wet face. He gasped, throat sore and thick. More tears rolled down his cheeks, escaping his angry hands as more flowed before he could wipe his face dry. His skin felt raw and stiff from the salty trails and his palms kept catching the bruise, making it ache more.

His knees shook and gave way, sending him sprawling to the floor in a heap. He shuddered, breathing erratic as he tried to gain control of himself. No matter how many times he tried to calm himself down, mantra after mantra spilling in garbled messes from his tongue, he couldn't control his heaving chest or the gasps and sobs that wracked his body.

Images flowed through his mind. Hands, large and rough, grabbing his body as he struggled to run. Yongguk's look of confusion and hurt as he dressed himself. The dark bedroom in his ex's apartment. A leering stranger in a bar. Yongguk's stern gaze as he took his hand. Meals crafted to perfection, each calorie counted to the exact number, weighed and stripped of fat. His reflection in a bathroom mirror, cheeks hollow and ribs showing through his too-large shirt. A pyre of books: diet books, lifestyle books, healthy living books – burning in his garden. Gangs of men in the dark shouting at him from across the road.

And there it was again. Yongguk's gaze of awe and wonder, as though he'd never seen anything better in his whole life. The memory smashed through Himchan's defences, boring deep into his core and nestling itself firmly among his vulnerabilities.

Somewhere, something was buzzing loudly.

His phone.

He managed to pull himself back up, blindly making his way to the source of the noise and half tearing his jacket pocket as he rummaged for the device. He clicked 'answer' before he could see who the ID was.

“Himchan!” Jongups voice shouted down the phone, “I called you all last night but you didn't answer! I was wondering if you had-... Hey are you all right? What happened?”

Himchan blinked blearily a few times as he tried to understand what his young friend was asking him, when he realised he hadn't actually stopped himself from crying before he got the phone. “Fine,” he choked out, “I- I spilled one of my most expensive products everywhere. It cost so much money and I'm- I'm just really frustrated about it.” He let out a weak laugh.

“Hmmm.” He could hear Jongup's doubt in that noise alone. “It's that guy you fake-date, right?”

“What? No. Who are you talking about?”

“I'm coming over with chocolate and DVD's now.”

He laughed again, genuine and relieved. “Thanks, Uppie. You're the best.”

 


	13. Darkest Place

It wasn't right.

The words were off-beat somehow. Not quite following the pattern of the music how he had hoped it would. Something about the pattern of the words. Something about the delivery. Something was wrong and he'd have to go over the lyrics again and re-work them before he could consider bringing this to anyone. Yongguk dragged his palm over his face, tapping out the beat on the soundboard as he mumbled the words to himself.

Behind him the door clicked open, and he turned to see a bright-eyed smile as Junhong stepped into the small room. The expression dropped, however, once he caught sight of him.

“Should I not have stepped in?” He asked, voice soft with shyness.

Yongguk looked at him, then glanced around to look for whatever it was that was making the trainee think he'd made some crime of entering the space. “Sorry?”

“You- you look really stressed. Should I go?”

“Ah,” he let out a small breath, “No, I'm just working on this track. I'm having difficulty with it.”

“Can I look?”

He nodded and let Junhong walk over and play the track, eyes following the piece of paper where the lyrics were jotted down. He mouthed the words along in time, circling a finger in the air to keep rhythm. After about a minute he paused it and pointed at the paper.

“It's here. The lyrics look like they'll fit but because of the way these parts are pronounced it throws it onto the off beat for a few lines.”

“Ah, of course!” Yongguk chided himself, and circled it with a pencil. “Stupid of me, I'm terrible with words these days.” It was supposed to be a mental thought to himself but he'd ended up letting it slip out as he gave his own hand an angry smack with the end of his pencil.

Junhong gave him a concerned look. “Did something happen? You seem really stressed...”

“It's nothing to worry about.”

“Is it about you and your boyfriend?”

“Junhong, he's not my boyfriend?”

“You broke up?” The boy's eyes widened, brows pinching.

He opened his mouth to say 'no', but stopped himself. What could he say? Wasn't that essentially what had happened? He and Himchan may not have been dating but they'd broken off whatever it was that they'd had.

“Oh no! You did break up! I'm so sorry, what happened?” Junhong had pulled his hands against his chest, fidgeting with his oversized sleeves nervously.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“It might help if you-”

“I said I don't want to talk about it,” he growled, snapping the pencil down against the paper.

Junhong stared at him, eyes wide and shining, corners of his mouth turned down. He looked small, afraid, and deeply hurt. Yongguk was hit with a wave of nausea as he remembered Himchan looking exactly the same way when he'd snapped a him before.

“I'm sorry, Junhong. Could you just... Leave me alone for a little while? I want to work on this.”

The young boy nodded at him and started to leave, before stopping and quickly saying, “Um, I actually came here to tell you that someone's asking for you: it's that singer – not the really loud one, the one who sometimes brings food.”

Yongguk let out a heavy, exasperated breath. “Daehyun. Just tell him I'm here, there's no point me trying to anything productive today it seems.”

Junhong just nodded and left.

 

Daehyun had brought two take-away boxes of noodles and a sixpack of soda cans. They were comfortably sat on the floor, a drink each and eating away, when Daehyun jerked his chopsticks accusingly at the rapper.

“Hey, when were you planing to tell me that you and Himchan were a thing?”

Yongguk choked on his food.

“I saw the pictures but didn't say anything because I figured you should be the person to tell me first. Then I hear people see you guys out together all the time, and I'm thinking 'Hey! I'm friends with both of them. How come no one told me?' even Youngjae didn't know until he ran into one of your friends this morning.”

Yongguk managed to clear his airway and fixed the singer with a firm look. “I really don't want to talk about this.”

“Ah, of course. Something went wrong. Tell me.”

“I don't want to. Not today.”

Daehyun hummed knowingly. “Ah,you're a victim of his shitty personality.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Yongguk narrowed his eyes.

“Not answering until you answer.”

“I don't want to-”

“Nope!” Daehyun cut across, one cheek stuffed with food as he clacked his chopstics aggressively. “You asked a question, that means we're talking about it. Come on, open up! This isa judgement free zone.”

He sighed, leaning out of Daehyun's arm range. “We weren't a thing.”

“Bullshit.”

“I'm serious,” he threw him a glare, “We posed as each other's fake boyfriends to get people off our backs. I was covering for him that day and we had to look convincing. My friends were threatening to set me up on a blind date so he covered for me yesterday.”

“Why didn't you go on a blind date? I know you're shy but it would do you good.”

“I...”

Daehyuns eyes widened. “You like someone, right?” When he didn't answer, Daehyun grinned at him. “You do! Who is it? I bet I can help. Even Himchan will help, I bet.”

Yongguk frowned. “He;s the problem.”

“What? Himchan's not a bad guy, he-” the singer paused mid-sentence, a clump of noodles partway out of his box. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And you were pretending to be- Oh. Oh, Yongguk, that must have really sucked.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in,” he grumbled.

“I didn't mean to. Come on, talk to me about it. You'll feel better.”

Yongguk didn't speak at first. He poked his food disinterestedly and swirled the fizzy drink around his can. “I don't know. I don't remember where it started or if there even was a point. It wasn't too bad at first, it was kind of nice actually. But then...”

“It got too much?” Daehyun offered.

“Yeah. It got too much.” He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his chopsticks into the box, giving up.

“No, don't stop now. Come on, we're getting somewhere.”

He frowned and kept his eyes on the food. “It's... It was difficult. Having to act like a couple but underneath that act like I didn't really want us to be a couple. I..” He let out a frustrated noise and pushed the noodle box away. “I'm an idiot.”

“No you're not.” Daehyun frowned, aggressively refusing to look at the abandoned food. “What happened in the end? Did you call it off?”

“I tried to... I... I ended up shouting at him. Fuck.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly, seeing Himchan and Junhong's hurt expressions behind his eyelids.

“Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay.” Daehyun shuffled forwards a little and patted his arm encouragingly. “Just get it all off your chest.”

“He apologised for...for basically using me- everywhere we went he'd get harassed and end up needing my help... But then I slipped up and needed him to cover for me and...” He rubbed his face, irritated at the stinging at the corner of his eyes. “He was always so touchy and nice and... And he seemed like a genuinely good guy...”

Daehyun nodded as he listened, shuffling a little closer to rub Yongguk's back. He glanced at the door of the room to make sure it was properly closed. He didn't imagine the rapper would be too delighted if someone walked in and saw him like this. “But if you made up, what happened after?” he asked, voice a little quieter.

Yongguk took a slow breath, trying to calm himself down. “We were drunk. It was raining a lot-” he swallowed, then continued, “we went back to his place. I don't know. He wanted me to get changed, I think, because we were both soaked and... One thing lead to another...”

Daehyun nodded. “Yeah, as they do, right?”

“Right.” He nodded as well, taking a moment to try to calm himself. “I don't know... What I did. I don't know where along the line I made the mistake but... He-” he rubbed his face and took a breath. “He kicked me out.”

Daehyun blinked, hand stilled in surprise. “He just kicked you out?”

“Yeah. I mean... I don't remember what we were saying but suddenly he was telling me to go home. He said it had been a mistake. Said we shouldn't meet up again.”

“Jeez.” Daehyun gave him a gentle shoulder squeeze. “I dunno. It sounds like it's his own issues getting in the way there. Don't beat yourself up over it.”

“I just...” he wiped his face, trying to dry his cheeks,”I really liked him. I really did. I thought- I thought he'd understood that. I thought that's what the night was about. Clearly to him it was just some sort of... Huge mistake. An easy lay.”

“Nah, Yongguk, no one thinks you're easy. Himchan's just-” he pursed his lips. “Well, maybe I shouldn't say.”

“No, please, tell me. I want to know how I fucked up so badly.”

“Ah, it's not you. It's...Well.” He mulled the words over, trying to think of the best way to word it. “Himchan's kinda... Like a coin. One side is the side that laughs and hugs you and buys you things, and the other side is the asshole. The asshole side used to be kinda funny but these days he's more the asshole than the fun side so he's just really insufferable.”

“These days?”

“Yeah because the old Himchan was really jokey and fun and only an asshole if you were an asshole to him. But ever since his ex-” Daehyun slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Ever since his ex... What?”

“Can't say. Not my place.”

Yongguk huffed. “Fine. So, what? Himchan's turned to his other side out of the blue and I don't know why.”

“Yep. He's a lost cause.”

“I really... Don't like the idea of that. I thought I had a chance.”

“I'm sorry, man. But this is one of those life experiences you talk about, right? You live and you hurt and you move on.”

“Yeah.” Yongguk looked down into his drink as he picked up the can. He watched Daehyun steal a few things from his food, but didn't do anything to stop him. “I guess you move on.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: 3 Doors Down - Away from the Sun


	14. Blackest Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Ramin Karimloo - Show Me Light

Three days. One day of crying. One day of re-organizing his life and getting back to planning classes. One day of getting back into the swing of his life without Yongguk in it. Three whole days.

Well, he added to himself as he threw his coat off and dropped himself down on the couch, two and three-quarters. One quarter left to relax and get his act together. One quarter to lie in the dim room, maybe turn the TV on, and forget how horrendously dark and cold it had been outside.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, making his brow furrow. He pushed himself up with a groan and dragged himself to the door, ready to tell any door-to-door salesman to kindly fuck off. As he pushed the handle of the door down and just got it a fraction open, something shoved against it and he was pushed back as whoever was on the other side of the door stepped into his house mid-sentence, bringing with them a cold bluster of wind from the black outdoors.

“-don't know what stupid idea you've got into your head this time, Himchan, but you've got some serious explaining to do.”

“Youngjae,” Himchan breathed out. “No, come in, make yourself at home.” He gestured to where Youngjae was already halfway down his hallway, glaring at him like he'd insulted the entire Yoo family ancestry.

“You can rip into Daehyun all you like. Who doesn't get pissed off at Daehyun? Not me, definitely. You can wax on about your ex for the next fifty years and I'll allow it because honestly that guy was a douchebag and you should've left him earlier. You have the go ahead to fucking break his jaw if you ever see him again. Hell, I'll pay you to do it. You can break the hands of any drunk guy who grabs you in a bar or beat up the creepy guys who yell at you in the streets-”

“Youngjae, get to your point. Right now it just sounds like you want me to fight people.”

The younger man stepped close and jabbed him in the chest to punctuate his next sentence. “You do not get to hurt Yongguk's feelings.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Bang Yongguk is a gentle, precious, angelic being and doesn't need your bitter self tainting that.”

“Jeez,Youngjae, if you like him so much why don't you go and marry him?”

Youngjae scoffed. “Please, even you must have noticed what a genuine person he is. Or are you that deep in your own ass that you can't even identify a decent person when they're putting up with you?”

He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowed. “What's this to you? How do you even know about whatever you think you know about?”

“I saw you two at Daehyun's party, and then your friend the other day said Yongguk had a date and described you. Then last night Daehyun calls me up saying Yongguk's literally in tears because he's so confused about what's happened.”

Himchan's face changed to a frown. “He was crying?”

“Wasted tears, in my opinion,” Youngjae said with a shake of the head. “You need to sort your life out, Kim.”

“That's what I was trying to do before you came barging in-”

“No, I mean seriously. No more of your pretending and stupid façades, okay? Youhad a shitty boyfriend over a year ago and you're still getting over everything he did, that's fine. You're still dealing with all that baggage. Whatever. But you need to stop taking it out on everyone else.”

“I'm not-”

“I haven't seen you smile genuinely _once_ in like... Nearly two years. You don't laugh any more. You're miserable. Then you come across the most soft, gentle person in the world and apparently even your stone walls can't be broken down. Honestly, Himchan, you're pushing everyone away and making life harder for yourself. One day you'll wind up alone and it'll be all your fault!”

“You're being over-dramatic. When you're done idolizing that guy you'll realise he's just like any other guy.”

“Yeah. Exactly. He's not a control freak like your ex. He's a normal dude with good intentions. You're the one who flipped and kicked him out to brave the elements. Just accept you're in desperate need of some emotional therapy that's anything other than eating ice cream with that dancer who is honestly far too young for you to be hanging out with.”

“Get out of my house, Youngjae.” Himchan's teeth were gritted together, jaw set.

“Why? So you can pretend this whole conversation never happened then go shopping with your boy-toy?”

“Get out!”

“Fine, I will!” Youngjae stormed past him, marching out of the still-open door. “If I catch even a hint of you hurting my friends again I'll come back here and make you eat those ridiculous products you put on every day.” He shut the door behind him with a bang and swept off into the night.

Himchan stared down the now empty corridor and took slow, unsteady breaths. He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his palms against them, shaking a little. He counted each breath slowly, then repeated the mantra a few times until he had calmed.

He located his phone, glaring angrily at his shaking hands, and dialled. He kept his spare hand tucked into his armpit to keep it steady as he pressed the device to his ear. Each ring was like a drill boring into his temple.

“Himchan? It's pretty late, what's up?”

“Are you free soon?” His voice wavered a little and he internally cursed himself.

“I can make space for you on Wednesday. Should I buy ice cream?”

Himchan opened his mouth to say yes, but paused. “N-no.” He bit his tongue until he was sure he wouldn't stutter. “Let's go out somewhere. I'll pay.”

“Okay, that sounds great! It's been ages since we last went out. I'm free after three, meet you outside my studios?”

“Yeah, that works fine. I'll see you there.”

“See you there!”

He hung up and stared at the screen. Had it really been that long since they went out? How often had they been cooped up inside his living room with old movies and junk food? He shook his head and swallowed.

Maybe a change was good.

 


	15. Into The Night

“After all that he just marches out like he had any right to be there in the first place. Honestly, Uppie, if any of us are in need of emotional therapy it's him. Who marches to someone's house at night just to shout? No one who's got their life together, that's for sure.” Himchan sighed and leaned back in his chair. It was a cute pastel green with a comfortable cushion on the seat, however the curved back wasn't quick high enough to support him and he quickly found himself leaning forwards instead, crossing his arms over the table.

Jongup hummed thoughtfully, not replying.

“Don't tell me you agree with his nonsense.” Himchan eyed the dancer suspiciously.

“Well...” Jongup mulled his words over in his head, twizzling the straw of his milkshake around. “It was really over-dramatic of him to come to your house to shout. That wasn't necessary. He didn't need to be that harsh either.”

“This isn't sounding like a disagreement.”

“Um... You have been... A little bit... Well, I mean, since your break up-”

“Okay, yes! I've been a bitch! Fine! But what he said about you being my boy toy or whatever was definitely out of line.” He huffed out of his nose and took a sip of his own milkshake.

“Well, you are kind of my sugar daddy,” Jongup said thoughtfully.

Himchan choked. “What?”

“The only time I spend money with you is when I bring snacks for movie nights. Otherwise you make me food or buy me new clothes. You spent so much on me on my last birthday I thought you must have won the lottery.”

“I live alone! I'm single! I have spending money!”

“That's fair enough but you only spend money on me. I'm not complaining! I love this jacket-” he pulled at the front of his zip-hoodie that Himchan had bought him only the month before “-but you do basically just buy me things.”

“That doesn't-” Himchan was still choking. “That doesn't make me your sugar daddy! That's me being a generous friend.”

“Sugar daddies are basically generous friends though.”

“Jongup. You do understand that there's more to it than that, right?”

“Yes. Without the sex. But instead I give you company and a shoulder to cry on.”

He snorted. “I don't need a shoulder to cry on.”

Jongup raised an eyebrow.

Himchan stared back, still looking amused.

Jongup raised the other eyebrow.

Himchan's expression fell into a firm stare.

Jongup propped his chin in his hands.

Himchan frowned.

Jongup wiggled his eyebrows.

Himchan's face fell. “Oh my God.”

“You get it now?”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“You get it.”

“All I've done is cry at you for the past... Sixteen months!”

“Wow, that long already?”

“Augh shit.” He buried his face in his hands. “Shit. I'm sorry, Uppie. I'm a terrible friend.”

“Nah. You're just going through a rough patch.”

“A rough patch for over a year?”

“Well... It was more like the entire time you were with your ex up 'till now.”

Himchan stared at him between his fingers.

“Hey. It's fine. You've had the revelation. Now you can start afresh. Maybe you can get back with that guy.” Jongup bounced his eyebrows suggestively.

“No.” Himchan straightened up, hands settling around his drink.

“No?”

“No. Definitely not. No way. I can't put him through... Me... Ever again.”

“Um. Okay? That sounds really stupid.”

“I have to just stay away from men. All men. I can't let anyone get close to me.”

“This sounds like the exact opposite of what Youngjae told you to do. In fact I think this is what he was warning you about.”

“You don't count as 'men'. I'll keep you around, don't worry.”

“Wow. Thanks. That really comforts me. I lied. It doesn't. I don't want to be your only friend, I'm only just handling being one of the few people who actually still talk to you.”

“This is it. My new life. Never to cause trouble again.”

"Um?"

“I'm going to change my whole life around. Fuck all my beauty products. Fuck caring what people think of me.”

“I- I don't know where you're going with this.”

“I'm a changed man, Jonguppie, and it all starts tonight.”

“Whatever you're planning, please don't.”

“Nope! It's settled.”

Jongup sighed heavily and shook his head a little at Himchan's proud expression. “Fine,do whatever you like. Just don't get yourself hurt, okay?”

“Please,” Himchan scoffed, returning to his milkshake, “I'll be fine.”

 

Yongguk sat nervously at the restaurant, turning his glass around between his fingers, leaving trails in the condensation that had gathered on the bottom. His shirt was buttoned a little higher than he usually would bother with, and his hair slicked back with a shine to it he wasn't quite sure if was appropriate or just silly. He'd foregone the tie and allowed himself at least two simple, understated rings. Smart-casual, right? That's what you wear on a first date, right?

...Wherever his date was.

He shook the thought from his mind. They were only a few minutes late, no more than ten. They'd probably had trouble with traffic or set off late. Nothing to worry about. This is a risk you take with blind dates: they have no way of waning you if they'll be late. He'd just have to wait.

He sipped his drink.

He looked around at the other people eating and talking.

He waited.

He glanced at his phone. Fifteen minutes late. Not too bad.

He watched a small child sneak some of the vegetables off their plate onto the plate of the child beside them. The unsuspecting presumably older sibling didn't notice this minor evil deed.

He checked his phone again. Twenty minutes.

A couple a few tables away were in the middle of a tiff. At first he thought them a man and woman, but after a moment of casually listening he realised that the man was actually a very boyish girl, which seemed to be the main cause of concern. The tomboy was defending her right to go out and play football with her male friends regardless of what the other girl's friends thought of it. He found himself internally rooting for her.

Half an hour.

A few waiters were eyeing him as they walked past, carrying trays of drinks and food to the tables around him. He sipped his drink. He had to make it last. He wasn't going to order before his date arrived. That would be rude.

The older sibling was complaining about the amount of vegetables in their food. The young child was looking incredibly smug. The parents were mostly ignoring them.

Fourty minutes.

A waiter asked if he was ready to order. He explained he was still waiting for someone. The waiter nodded with a strange, sad expression, and left him in peace.

The tomboy seemed to have won the tiff, looking pleased as the other girl took her hand and nodded a little as she spoke. They smiled at each other. He felt a small warmth as he watched them.

Fifty minutes.

All of his ice had melted, diluting the last mouthful of his drink into a strange off-coloured clear liquid.

Waiters were actively watching him now.

The family of the young child gave him pitying looks as they pulled their jackets on and left.

He saw the girls lean in a little closer to whisper, then both glance his way.

An hour.

He swallowed the last mouthful of his drink and sighed. Hi signalled a waiter and asked for the bill. The waiter nodded solemnly. He tipped heavily.

As he headed to the doors, pulling his jacket on, he heard two waiters whispering to each other.

“His date came to the door you know.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Took one look at him and left.”

“Don't blame them. He looks like a gangster.”

“He tipped well, though.”

“Probably drug money.”

He yanked his zip up and shoved the door open, saying nothing as a small chorus of 'thank you for coming!'s followed him out. He stuck his hands in his pocket and pulled his hood low over his head, then marched his way home and swallowed the bitter wedge in his throat.

He bought a large bottle of cider on his way home and had finished it by the time he got in through his front door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Ed Sheeran - All Of The Stars


	16. Where The Stars Reside

The sun was starting to set when Himchan set home. The sky turned from a gentle pinkish glow to a deep navy blue, thick clouds spreading in from the edges like hands taking hold of the world. They blotted out the tiny pricks of stars that slowly came into view and the soft glow of the crescent moon. Orange lights had flickered on as he reached his house, bathing him in an uneasy illumination. He stepped inside his dark house and hit the light switch with more force than necessary.

The hallway light bulb flickered on and buzzed for a few moments. He eyed it, still in the doorway. With a sharp ' _clink!_ ' it exploded in one bright starlight, then fizzled into small orange embers. He sighed and shut the door, cutting off the only other source of light. He hung his jacket on the wall, glad to catch it on the hook first time. He knew his own house well enough to navigate it in the dark.

He stubbed his toe on the way up the stairs and walked into the wall a few times before reaching his bathroom door. He flicked the light on and flinched at the clinical whiteness that buffeted his eyes until he got used to it. He waited patiently, but the bulb seemed to be holding well. He stepped inside and threw the cabinet open.

He unscrewed bottle after bottle and pored them away down the sink. Expensive lotions and oils and soaps and gels swirled down the drain in bubbly pastel ribbons. The smells of musk and berries and exotic plants consumed him like a cloud. He stepped out once to cough into the dark hallway, wheezing in the clear air. Even the hallway was developing an interesting fragrance from the sheer quantity of products being poured out.

Anything he couldn't pour, he just unscrewed the lid of and threw into the bath tub. He turned the tap on and let it fill slowly as he threw pot after pot of butters and waxes and rubs in. They dissolved into colourful suds and filled the bath with thick bubbles and oily residue. They gave off such an overpowering smell he had to cover his mouth and try not to heave into the toilet. He turned the tap off and opened a window, letting the room air out while he ran out.

He dragged all of his clothes from his wardrobes, throwing anything he thought worth keeping onto the bed and everything else into the corner. Small sized tops and tiny pairs of jeans were piled up, worn underwear thrown to the bin, and a few sweaters and jogging bottoms put into a separate pile to be decided on at a later date. Anything he wasn't certain if he might still fit into, he threw into the corner pile anyway. Anything he hadn't worn in a while: straight into the corner pile. Anything he'd bought and never touched: corner pile. Anything with a ghastly stain or rip on it: into the bin. His bed pile was looking incredibly small. But that was okay. That's what he wanted.

He gathered his remaining clothes and hung them back up in his wardrobe. The vast empty stave around them and bare hangers that hung either side of the remaining outfits felt fresh. A new start. Inviting.

The corner pile was gathered into plastic bags. He made a mental note to invite people around to see if they wanted anything before he donated it all to the nearest charity he could find. He dragged the bags out of his room and into the hallway, before going back in.

He grabbed the make-up bag and all the other skin products he kept in his room and took them to the bathroom. A handful more bottles were poured away and two more tubs added to the bath. He dumped the make-up into the bin. Any products he'd found during his frantic cleansing that had yet to be opened or used, he put beside the clothes bags. They could be gifts. He added the large box of bath bombs to the hallway as well.

He unplugged the bath and let the greasy products slug their way down the drain. He poured bleach in after the thick foamy mess, worried the pipes would clog. His eyes stung a little. He let the fumes slowly dissipate through the open window as he made his way downstairs, pulling the mask off.

He washed his face vigorously in the kitchen sink and wiped himself dry with a clean kitchen towel. He began walking to go upstairs, when he caught his reflection in the mirror in the sitting room. He stopped. He stared. Despite the hallway light being dead, he could see his skin was flushed red from being scrubbed, bare and covered in moles. Dark shadows had gathered beneath his eyes and the smile-lines around his mouth seemed deeper than ever in the low light. Without his usual contouring, his bare cheeks seemed huge and puffy rather than the soft recently rounded look they had during the early morning hours when he would start his routine. His hair was lank, flat and greasy looking. Something about his skin seemed off and he turned back to the kitchen, desperate for clarity.

He found the little round mirror that hung beside the back door, the frame decorated with little bits of glass – a gift his ex's little sister had given him – and stared closely. His usually smooth skin had a slight bumpy texture to it, as though a number of spots were on the verge of pushing through. He unhooked the mirror from the nail and held it closer in better lighting, examining the small peaks and dips on his cheek and jaw. The more he tilted it, he realised it was worse than he'd thought. It spread down his neck in angry reddening skin. He dragged a finger over the damage and felt the skin drying. He'd need to apply a lot of cream there.

He stiffened.

With a jerk of realisation, he let the mirror go. It hit the ground with splitting crack before landing flat on its back, the edge leaving a scuff in the floor tile. He gazed down at the broken glass, reflection split into pieces and fragmented beyond recognition. He could just make out his black hair and a single eye. Everything else was pale reddish shapes. A slight jolt passed though his body, making his skin prickle. His heart beat a little faster.

_Yes._

_That's the next step. Get rid of the mirrors._

One in the upstairs hallway was tossed against the wall, smashing into tiny pieces still inside its rigid wooden frame. His heart jumped with delight. The little ones in the bathroom were less lucky where the metal frames dented and the glass sprinkled out, filling the bath where they'd been thrown with sparkling glass confetti. He'd had less success with the ones on the cabinet doors, but the large cobweb where he'd hit them hard with the shower-head had been enough, filling the sink with glitter. The sparkling mess was a fantastical world of light and magic, sending waves of joy through him.

The ones in his room were thrown out of his window, exploding in his back garden with pretty tinkling noises. The larger shards caught the smudged moon in their surface, filling the garden with little lights like fairies dancing among the gravel and rogue weeds. The largest mirror crashed loudly, splitting in half and throwing wooden splinters about. A few neighbours glanced out their window curiously but he paid them no mind. He felt exhilarated. Unrestrained and free. He felt powerful and dangerous but light and happy all at the same time.

Hand-held make-up mirrors were thrown like frisbees against walls. One he threw high then smacked with a frying pan like a tennis ball. It soared across the kitchen, leaving a trail of glass shards, then exploded against the back door. He nodded smugly to himself and headed back into his dark hallway.

He caught his reflection in the sitting room mirror. He stopped. He stared.

It was the first thing he'd bought for himself when he'd moved into the house. He'd decided, before he'd even settled on the sort of seats or tables he wanted, that he would really like a large ornately patterned glass-frame mirror over the fireplace. He turned the frying pan over in his hand like a club. He'd had it for years.

He hated it.

With one good swing, he caught the centre of the mirror with the rim of the pan, denting the cooking instrument and shattering a great hole in the mirror. The middle cascaded down like a waterfall, loose pieces hitting the top of the fireplace and jumping out. They scratched his skin but in a way he didn't mind too much. He gaping hole sat where his face had been.

 _Excellent_ , he thought to himself, _that's the last of them_. He lowered the pan, pleased with his work.

With a scrape and a creaking noise, the mirror loosened from its holdings on the wall and fell forward. A sudden spike of fear hit him as it neared him. He barely had time to take a step back before the glass frame hit the ground and split into pieces, sharp pieces flying outward. He threw his arms up to cover his face, eyes squeezed closed.

Shards cut his skin and he felt something hit his ankle, ripping through his trouser leg and sock, the tender muscle around the front of the bone screaming in pain. Or maybe he screamed.

He let go of the pan handle, the skin of his hands shredded from tiny flying pieces. It hit the ground with a gong that rang through the house, followed by a metallic wobbling as it slowly settled down. His body stung all over. His palms were bruised and fingers beaded with blood.

He staggered back, suddenly aware of the cuts all over his body that bled freely. There was a huge red puddle around his foot. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, his rapidly beating heart suddenly muted and barely a feather against his ribs.

He fell back onto the floor, amazed by the huge triangle of glass jutting from the soft flesh where the base of his leg curved into the top of his foot. Blood pumped from the wound around it. His ears were ringing. He felt light headed. There was a lot of red.

Something buzzed, somewhere, not far off.

He frowned. It droned on.

His phone.

He managed to drag himself into the hallway, leaving a dark smear behind him. It was dark and his eyes refused to adjust. The world shook and pulsated in the dimness. Things stirred in corners and slipped in and out of dark shadows.

He reached up, arm heavy and uncoordinated. His palm hit the wall a few times, making a soft ' _splat_ ' sound. He thought it hurt, maybe, but he couldn't be sure. His hand wandered around until it met material. He patted his jacket before finding the hard rectangular lump where his phone was. He took a deep breath and yanked on the pocket until his jacket tipped enough for it to fall into his lap.

The bright screen seared his eyes, making him blink rapidly to get used to the assault of colour and light. It swam before his vision. He couldn't make out what was happening. The caller ID was fuzzy and the image nothing more than a blur.

He swiped the screen a few times, leaving red smears until it answered.

Someone's voice said something. He couldn't tell. He closed his eyes. The voice was louder now. Insistent.

Right.

He had to reply.

“Hey...” he managed, voice soft. Was it his voice? It seemed so far away...

The voice changed tone. He frowned.

“Youngjae?”

Some more words.

“Hey I... I think... I think I really... Made a mistake. Could...” His tongue felt heavy. “Could you call an ambulance?”

The voice may have said something more, but he couldn't tell. Everything was slow and heavy and muffled. The floor was cool on his cheek. Nothing hurt any more.

He blacked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Nightwish - A Final Dream


	17. The Universe Pretty Much Covers Everything

This was posted on April Fools and was really funny while the story was in progress, but for anyone reading this fic now it doesn't make much sense. This chapter holds no value to the plot and doesn't add anything to the story, so you can completely skip it if you like. 

* * *

 

Himchan cracked his eyes open and blinked a few times. He was alone beneath a dark sky that twisted and squirmed above him like a pit of grey worms. He sat up and looked around, seeing nothing but an endless black sand wasteland that stretched into a distant flat horizon. He jerked as memories of his minor breakdown hit him, and checked his body for the cuts.

He found his skin to be clear, smooth and unblemished. Not even faded scars from childhood accidents or the mark where he broke his hand once were there. He was paler, though, no hint of pink around his knuckles or blue veins under his skin. His clothes were simple, black and mostly shapeless. He stood slowly, unsure.

“Confused?” a voice asked behind him. It was husky and deep in a way that was familiar but he couldn't identify.

He turned sharply and found himself face-to-face with his own self, grinning back at him in similar simple clothing, but was more robe-like and draped onto the floor in an almost regal manner. He leaned upon a large wooden staff, comfortably with a hip thrown out.

“I expect you're more confused now,” his doppelgänger said with a small laugh.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Himchan took a step back, arms raised in case he had to fight his clone for dominance of the alpha.

“Well, this is the middle-ground. The place of lost souls. The void between life and death.”

“And you?”

The fake Himchan's grin turned fox-like, sending a chill up his back. “Haven't you worked that out yet?” He straightened up and turned the staff. A long, curved blade seemed to grow from its peak. “I'm the Reaper.”

“But... You're me.” Himchan took another step back, eyeing the blade.

“Ah yes, about that. You see, normally after I reap a soul I would take the form of the one the deceased trusted most. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes I find there's no one to take the form of.” The Reaper turned the staff once more and the blade receded. “So I take that person's form, hoping they might at least listen to reason from their own mouth.”

“You're a little off there, then,” Himchan spat, “I don't even trust myself right now.”

“I gathered that, but what else could I do? Imagine if I'd shown up... Looking like this.” The Reaper's features became gaunt, skeletal. At first Himchan thought he was going to become some great cloaked skeleton like in fictional representations, but instead he became something much worse. A younger, thinner, unhealthier version of himself stared back.

He looked away, eyes shut.

“I thought so.”

“But... There was at least Jonguppie. I would have accepted that.”

“Would you?”

Himchan opened his eyes and turned back to find Jongup staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Would you have been comfortable with him? Or would you have just hated how fake I was. Hated that I'm a reminder of someone you've let down countless times. Would you have even given me a moment to explain myself before you tried to get yourself away from me?”

Himchan dropped his gaze.

“Thought so.”

He looked up again to find himself once more looking at his own face.

“So, here we are. Time to begin our journey.” The Reaper offered an arm and Himchan reluctantly took it. “Excellent, on we go!”

“I have a question,” Himchan asked a short while into their walk.

“Ah of course. This is the plain we must cross to get to our destination. It's also a huge representative image to hide what it actually is so you're less worried. For you it presented as a huge, dark desert. Wonder what that means for your psyche?”

“Actually, no. I was going to ask why you're British.”

The Reaper gave him a far too wide grin and pulled him close, their faces nearly touching. “Ah, now you've asked the real question.”

“Um, what?”

“None of this is real, Himchan.”

“What?”

“This is all made up! It's a huge elaborate construction! Fiction! Delusion! A figmented tale abstracted from truth and made into a piece of alternate narrative to entertain whoever may come across it!”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is nothing but a story! This isn't the real you. I'm not even remotely real! I'm just am avatar for the author to have a jolly good go at messing with the readers!”

“But- But I am real!”

“Ah, you are! But not like this! You've been changed and warped and pushed into a different life! The people you know are real but similarly have become perversions of their true selves. None of the past sixteen chapters really happened!”

“So... So I'm a badly interpreted character in a fan fiction?”

“Absolutely! But don't worry too much, you're in one of the better works this author has churned out over the past few months. The last one was a God-awful disaster. The one before was pretty good, though.”

“What does this even mean? Why have I become aware of this?”

“Because the author has had a damn long day and is pretty stressed about Current Life Issues and General Life Problems and was looking for an opportunity to have a proper little giggle on this fun-having day.”

“What?”

“April Fools!”

And then, Himchan was a Zombie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Mr Weebl - Amazing Horse


	18. The Morning Sun

He cracked his eyes open slowly. His eyelids were heavy, heavier than they'd ever been in his whole life. How had he ever blinked so easily before?

He got a glimpse of something white... Or perhaps just a very bright light?

Someone was saying something. Muffled. Far away.

Everything was so blurry. So unclear.

His eyelids were so heavy.

He let his eyes shut once more.

 

When he opened his eyes again, they seemed to work better. There was still a bright whiteness in front of him and he felt exhausted. A slow ache started up, all up his arms and legs. He let out a slow groan of pain.

Someone's voice called something. His name, maybe?

Suddenly the bright whiteness was blocked out by a silhouette of someone with a halo of light around them. His eyes struggled to focus. A hand had taken hold of his own, soft and gentle.

The voice was still talking. Upset. Distressed. Crying?

A tear hit his face and he blinked, vision slowly clearing up.

“Himchan? Himchan can you hear me?”

Youngjae.

He let out a long groan of pain as his body woke up, every inch of him aching. His arms stung a little and so did...

One of his legs...

He flinched with a sudden jolt of sickness and pushed himself to sit up unsteadily. He felt Youngjae grab him, trying to stop his movements.

“What are you doing? Stay still, you're hurt!”

“My leg! I can't feel--” He looked down and saw the white sheet draped over him, marking out two distinctly leg-shaped bumps. He reached out, hand barely coordinated, and grabbed his thigh. “That's my leg.”

“Yeah...”

“Oh thank God. I thought it had been amputated.” Himchan let out a relieved sigh, immediately relaxing.

“You thought... You thought they'd...Oh my God.” Youngjae threw his arms around Himchan, pulling him close. “Oh thank God you're okay! I was so worried! I didn't know what had happened!” Hot tears were soaking through the flimsy hospital gown.

“Ah! Hey, hey,Youngjae, Jaaeeeee, why are you crying? I'm fine.”

“I-” Youngjae hiccuped and straightened up, freeing Himchan from his grip and wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I was so worried that- that the last thing I'd said to you had been so harsh and- and even though I called you to apologise you couldn't really hear me. You'd lost so much blood when the ambulances arrived that they weren't sure you'd make it.” He breathed heavily, eyes puffy and red and cheeks flushed.

“How long have I been here?”

“'Bout two days. You had to have a blood transfusion and stitches and...” He waved a hand, unable to continue. He took a shaky breath.

“Were you here the whole time?”

Youngjae nodded. “Jongup, Daehyun and a few others dropped by to check on you,but I stayed here. I- I just felt so awful and-” he choked on a sob.

Himchan felt a rush of affection for the younger. “Hey, Youngjae, there's no hard feelings. You were right. I was being an ass. If I'd died I wouldn't have come to haunt you for it.”

“Oh God, what if you'd died?”

“Youngjae, it's fine! We're fine!” Himchan laughed a little, still weak but glad to have company.

Youngjae's eyes welled up and he threw himself back on Himchan, pulling him into a hug. Himchan patted his back gently, arm still heavy. He was thankful for all the painkillers he was clearly on, because Youngjae's hug was probably crushing his ribs.

When the younger's tears subsided and he'd calmed down, Youngjae eventually took his leave and made Himchan promise they'd go out for lunch somewhere when he was out of hospital. There was a moment where Himchan desperately wanted to ask the question that had been playing on his mind since he'd realised that it was Youngjae at his side, but he kept his mouth shut. Youngjae left, and he was alone.

 

It took some time, but eventually he was released. Jongup had come to pick him up and was eyeing the thick brace that had been strapped around Himchan's ankle as he helped him walk. The sun shone down on them, the first truly clear sky of spring.

“Honestly, Himchan. I'm starting to worry if I should ever leave you alone. Every time I hear from you it's like another awful thing has happened. Do I need to babysit you?”

“Maybe that's it, Jonguppie,” Himchan lamented, “I was never meant for the good life. You were always destined to smack my hands when I got a stupid thought into my head.”

“But I am sort of serious. Do you need me to like, move in for a few days and help you out? I mean, I'd offer you space at mine but my house mates wouldn't appreciate it.”

“Noooo~ I'll be fine. But do drop in occasionally. I've got leave from work until I can walk properly again and I'll be bored and lonely. You don't need to worry about me looking after myself” He pushed a hand out to open the front door of the hospital, struggling for balance for a moment.

“I definitely don't trust you on your own at all, but sure, okay. I'll come by before and after college and make sure you're not dead.” Jongup secured hold of his arm and helped him out to the car park.

“Thank you for your kindness and generosity, without which I would be...” he trailed off as he spotted someone walking across the car park.

Jongup saw his expression and followed his line of sight. “Ah.”

“He's here.”

“With flowers.”

“He's here with flowers.” Himchan blinked, brain going numb.

For a moment he worried that the anaesthetic hadn't worn off properly. Then the man in the car park looked up and their eyes met. His head filled to burst with memories, concerns, decisions and words he definitely wasn't ready to say yet. His breath caught in his chest.

“Do you want me to start the car and bring it over and wait here? You can talk to him.”

“N-no. It's not worth it. He's probably here to see someone-”

“He's definitely here to see you. I'm going to get the car. Stay here.” Jongup gave him a reassuring pat and headed down the steps that head to the hospital doors, then jogged away to his parking space.

Himchan stood in silence, unsure of what to say. He cast his gaze down to the steps. He tried to descend, taking the first step carefully. The second step he lost his footing and fell, his heart skipping a beat in fear.

A strong pair of arms caught him, and he found himself overwhelmed for a moment by the smell of cologne and mixed flowers. His pulse thudded in his ears and he swallowed. With all of the bravery he could manage, he looked up at Yongguk's face.

“Thanks,” he managed, barely a whisper.

“Um, any time.” Yongguk replied, voice just as quiet.

Himchan straightened himself up with Yongguks help, and awkwardly pushed his hands into his pockets. Yongguk was watching him, as though expecting him to do something.

“I-” Himchan began.

“So-” Yongguk began.

They both stopped.

“You first,” Yongguk said.

“No, you.” Himchan insisted.

“Um, okay.” Yongguk shifted nervously. “Well I... I bought you some flowers.”

“Oh.” Himchan blinked down at the bouquet. “They're beautiful.”

“I um... Yeah. I didn't think you'd be out yet. I only, um... Just heard about...” He cleared his throat.

“Right, yeah. No, they're lovely. Thank you. Um. It wasn't as bad as they thought it could have been.”

“Right. That's good.”

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence for another moment.

“Um, you were going to say something? Before?” Yongguk offered.

“Oh! Yeah..” Himchan shifted again, feeling nerves claw at his insides. “Listen I... I'm really sorry about that night.”

Yongguk nodded a little, looking downcast. “Right.”

“Not about the first part. I mean, I shouldn't have kicked you out like that. That was really shit of me. I just... I just let things get to me and I end up overreacting and messing stuff up... I really shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry.”

Yongguk didn't say anything, but nodded, eyes turned away to look at the hospital windows.

“Um. If it's okay with you... I'd like to... Maybe... For us to...” Himchan took a breath,”I'd like to start again. With you.”

Yongguk looked back at him.

“When I'm able to walk again, maybe we could grab lunch and... Instead of fake-date... Maybe... We could... Try a... Real one...” His voice got quieter and quieter as he kept talking until he was barely intelligible. He scrunched his face, cursing himself internally for being so bad at speaking about it, but when he opened his eyes again Yongguk was looking at him with such relief and happiness he could've cried.

“That would be great. More than great, actually. That would be... Really great. Let's get lunch and... And try a real date.”

“Brilliant!” Himchan let out a short laugh of relief, feeling immensely light headed. He hoped this wasn't some horrible side-effect of the medicine he'd taken.

“You can text or call me when you're better or..?”

“Um.” Himchan bit his lip guiltily. “About that. I sort of... Deleted your number.”

“Oh.” Yongguk shifted uncomfortably.

“So... uh... I guess...” He cursed himself for his own rational behaviours as the tension grew between them.

Yongguk seemed a little at a loss.

“Well... Hey stud, how about giving me your phone number?” Himchan laughed awkwardly and gave Yongguk a very gentle arm slap.

It broke the tension completely and the older let out a laugh. “That's definitely one way to ask.”

“But is it going to work?”

“Well, it seems to be working, though I'd suggest you try a different approach next time you try to hit on someone,” he said as he pulled a pen out of his pocket.

“Oh yeah, what's your approach then?” Himchan laughed a little.

“Save them from some thugs and walk them home everyday.” Yongguk replied, taking Himchan's hand and writing his number on the back of his palm.

Himchan found his face heating up as the gentle fingers held his own, mesmerised by the way Yongguk's lips mouthed the numbers silently.

“There you go. You've successfully got my number.”

Himchan laughed, hoping his face had calmed down. “I'll treasure it. Properly, this time.”

A car horn beeped and they both jumped with surprise. Jongup was sat in his car waving.

“Himchan! I tried waiting but if I stick around any longer I'll get in trouble!” The dancer called from the window.

“Ah, my ride.” Himchan gave Yongguk an apologetic smile.

“Need me to walk you down these steps?”

“Such a gentleman.”

Yongguk helped Himchan down to the car, making sure he didn't lose his balance. When the musician was safely at the door on the passenger side, they paused to look at each other.

“I'll be in contact,” Himchan promised.

“Great. Oh, um, your flowers.” Yongguk held out the bouquet, their hands meeting for a moment a Himchan took it from him.

“Thank you, again.” There was a short moment where he wasn't sure what to do, but then gave up on worrying and leaned in to press a kiss to Yongguk's cheek. When he pulled back, thhe rapper's face had turned pink. “I'll see you soon, hopefully.”

“Yeah, see you soon.” Yongguk's hand had moved up to touch his cheek.

Himchan smiled and climbed into the car. They waved at each other as Jongup drove them away.

“He seems nice,” Jongup commented.

“He is. Really nice.” Himchan smiled down at his flowers.

“So when are you going to tell him that you'll never be able to meet up, what with you being so dependent on me and likely never going to walk again because you're so desperate for me to care for you?”

Himchan slapped his shoulder playfully. “Oh shut up. Just you watch me, I'll be healedin no time.”

Jongup glanced at him from the corner of his eye and smirked.

“What's that look for?”

“You've changed. It's good to see.”

“Changed?”

“Okay, wrong word choice. You've changed back. Back to how you used to be.”

Himchan chuckled and looked down at the flowers once more. “Maybe. Maybe I've just started again?”

“Don't get philosophical on me or I'll kick you out of the car.”

“Tch. I take back everything I've said. You're unkind and mean spirited.”

“There's my old Himchannie.” He laughed at Himchan gave him another slap, but dropped the topic for the rest of the drive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Måns Zelmerlöw - Miss America


	19. The Rain Don't Change The Sun

The restaurant was warmly lit with candles that flickered softly from the chandeliers and reflected off the ornately framed mirrors that adorned the walls beside elegant oil paintings and beautiful drapery. Yongguk would have mourned how all of these things were definitely fake, had he not had his eyes locked on his wristwatch. He'd showed up a little bit early out of fear of showing up late, but now with the light of the electric candles flickering on the hands that pointed decisively five minutes past their agreed meeting time, he was starting to wonder if it was worth the worry.

He caught sight of his reflection in one of the wall mirrors and fixed his hair. He definitely hadn't used enough gel to keep it in place. If only he hadn't rushed out, he told himself, then he'd have had time to make sure it wouldn't fall apart so easily.

He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes.

Something like a sick familiarity crawled into his gut and settled there. He tried to shake the feeling off, shifting in his chair and re-reading the menu. He pulled his phone out and checked his messages. Nothing new.

Fifteen minutes.

 _Took one look at him and left_ , a quiet memory whispered to him.

He grit his teeth.

_He looks like a gangster._

He clenched his fists. It was closing in on twenty minutes and he'd had no call, no texts, no anything. He reached back for his jacket.

“Ah! Yongguk, sorry I'm so late!”

He looked up to see Himchan half fall into his chair, hair falling out of it's hold and his sleeves crumpled along his arms like he'd pushed them up and they'd slowly worked themselves loose.

“I had a physio appointment and it ran over, then I realised I'd thrown away half my nice clothes and I only had this one can of hairspray and then because I'd had physio I had to walk slower than usual and...” He waved a hand, “Anyway. I'm sorry. I'm here now. Were you here long? Augh, I was going to text you but I was in such a rush I didn't even have time to do that.”

Yongguk stared at the slightly dishevelled man and felt his nerves bubble over into relief. He raised a hand to cover his mouth, but couldn't stifle the laughter that escaped.

“What? What is it? Is it my face? My hair?” Himchan raised a hand to scrape through his ruffled locks.

“No- Well, yes, your hair too. Never mind. We're fine.” Yongguk grinned and tucked his phone into his pocket. “I'm glad you made it.”

“So am I.” Himchan smiled at him, a hint of shyness playing about his face that made Yongguk's heartbeat rise a little.

 

If there was one thing Yongguk could say about Himchan, it was that he radiated such natural princeliness that had any of the decoration been real, he'd have made them look tacky by comparison. The warm glow shone from his dark hair and sparkled in his eyes, even shimmered off the wet patch on his lower lip that had been left behind from the rim of his glass. Maybe it was the wine, or the way the musician seemed more confident and comfortable than Yongguk had ever seen him, but just the sight of the younger man in that moment was utterly intoxicating.

“If you keep looking at me like that I'm going to combust.”

And there was also that blush that had stained pale cheeks red, almost matching the wine.

“I'm serious. Stop!” Himchan turned his face away to not look at Yonggk, one hand raised to block his vision.

Yongguk couldn't help it. A grin split through his expression. “Ah, sorry, I think I might have spaced out for a moment.”

“You manage a whole meal but start drifting before we do pudding?” Himchan chuckled a little. “Try not to get philosophical over a cheese cake.”

Yongguk raised his eyebrows. “Did you want to get pudding?”

Himchan seemed to shrink a little. “Well, not if you're not getting anything.”

“Oh, no, you can get pudding if you want.” Yongguk straightened up quickly.

“No, no, it's fine. I don't want to eat if you're not.”

“I just don't have much of a taste for rich sweet things. You can if you want, I'll get a coffee.”

Himchan eyed him, hovering between obviously wanting desert and not wanting to appear rude.

“Hey, it's fine. Maybe they'll have something simple like ice cream or...” A thought occurred to him, “Or, if you want, I'm pretty sure I have a full tub of ice cream I never got round to eating. If you want we could go back to my apartment and have that?” He'd offered it as a very innocent act of sharing food, but as soon as he finished speaking he realised that by asking Himchan back to his place another, subtler offer hung between them.

Himchan seemed to consider it carefully as he picked up his glass and sipped the last of his wine. Just as Yongguk was about to withdraw and amend his offer, Himchan nodded. “Yeah. That would be nice. My place is still being redecorated so it would be a good change of scene.” He grinned. “Besides, it'll be interesting to see where a rapper lives. I bet it's like one of those TV shows where there's gold-plated things and pictures of women in bikinis and animal skin rugs.”

“It's... Nothing like that.” Yongguk pursed his lips in distaste.

“Good because that would be really gaudy.”

Yongguk snorted. “You're unbelievable.”

“I think that more or less sums me up.” Himchan gave him a small smile.

“Well, you should know there's no fur. I don't support the use of real fur or endangerment of animals.”

“Good.”

“There is one painting of a woman, naked...”

Himchan's brows furrowed.

Yongguk chuckled. “It's an Egon Schiele print. She's being held by her lover. It's very beautiful.”

“I'll make my own decision on it when I see it.” Himchan shorted a little. “What about the gold?”

“Nah. Got a gold vinyl on the wall but that's it.”

“Well it's off to a good start then.” Himchan smirked. “I'll have to judge your décor myself.”

 

The blue sky hung over them, clear of clouds and sprinkled with distant stars. The moon glowed, not quite full but bright enough to leave a chalky smudge around it. It reflected off the higher windows of tall buildings, but was drowned by the orange-pink glow of the street lamps that lit the roads and warmed the darkness. The two men walked arm in arm, alone but not lonely, looking for a moment like an old sepia photograph as they made their way through the empty late-night streets.

“Why did you bring me flowers when I was at the hospital?” Himchan asked, head comfortably resting on Yongguk's shoulder.

“Because... I wanted to.” Yongguk answered, unsure of what the point of the question was.

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why did you bring me flowers when I was in the hospital despite everything I did?”

Yongguk didn't answer immediately. Himchan's hair gently tickled his neck and the gentle waft of that familiar cologne was slowing his thought process down. “I guess I didn't want everything that happened to have ended on a bad note. Even if we hadn't tried a real date, I would've wanted things to be okay between us. There's no point having difficulties between people if they can be talked through.”

“You're a very wise person.”

Yongguk laughed a little. “Maybe. I don't think so. I think I'm just not very happy when I know there are things that can be resolved.”

“Are you happy now?” Himchan turned his head to look up at him.

Yongguk glanced down and found their faces very close, Himhan's warm breath ghosting over his own lips. “Yeah. I am.”

“That's good.” Himchan put his head back on Yongguk's shoulder and held his arm a little tighter.

“What about you?”

“I think I'll be happier when I can sit and give my ankle a rest.” Himchan chuckled.

“We'll be at my place soon. You can put your feet up then.”

Himchan shorted. “You make me sound like an old man.”

“Ah, welcome to my world. Being an old person in a young man's body.”

Himchan didn't even try to stop the laugh that burst out of him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sountrack: Delta Ray - The Morning Comes


	20. Hush The Night

“Welcome to Castle del Bang,” Yongguk half sang as he unlocked the door of his apartment and pushed it open.

Himchan raised an eyebrow at him. “Castle del Bang?” he asked as he stepped in.

“Hey it probably makes sense in... Spanish maybe. Or Italian.” He followed in and closed the door, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it onto an over-full coatstand. When he didn't get any kind of response, he looked to Himchan and blinked.

The younger was stood in the middle of his apartment, eyes grazing over everything he could see with an almost critical air to it. He made one very slow turn before finally facing Yongguk again. “Where's your stuff?”

Yongguk was slightly taken aback. “This is my stuff.”

Himchan gestured around at the apartment. “But you have nothing.”

This was a little bit dramatic, Yongguk felt. Sure, he didn't have _many_ things but he certainly _had_ things. There was the simple black lounger and the TV and the upturned crate he used for a coffee table. There was a few canvases on the walls and at least one potted plant on the kitchen windowsill. There was the mixing deck and a box of records in the corner, and some nice speakers and another box of CD's. There were even some novelty mugs on the counter tops... He really should've cleaned those up before he left the house.

“This is all the stuff I need.” He shrugged and gently pushed Himchan towards the lounger as he went to the freezer. “What more were you expecting?” He opened a draw and had to crack the tub of ice cream from the clump of ice that had built around it.

“I don't know... More things? People usually have just... Stuff. Material wealth. Belongings. You know: ugly presents from birthdays, things you just bought for the sake of it, old things you've owned for years. You know. Stuff.” Himchan made himself comfortable on the lounger, still looking around as though expecting a secret cupboard to open and all the hidden belonging to fall out.

“I just don't really have stuff from when I was younger and... Generally I don't keep things. If I don't want it I'll pass it to someone else or donate it. At this point people just buy me shower products or drink.” He filled two bowls with ice cream and carried them over with a pair of spoons.

“Ah, that makes sense. I thought your hands were suspiciously soft.” Himchan took one bowl from him, eyes lighting up happily.

“You think my hands are soft?” Yongguk sat beside him, chuckling a little.

“Yes! I was so jealous for the longest time. I was always thinking: 'He clearly doesn't bother with fancy products or anything, but he's got the softest skin. How is that?' And now I know it's because instead of getting cushions and mirrors and vases lamps, you have gifted lotion.” He triumphantly put a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

Yongguk snorted. “Well if I have no other physically redeeming features, I now know my skin is at least soft.”

“What do you mean 'no other physically redeeming features'?” Himchan asked around a mouthful of ice cream, brow furrowed.

“Ahh... Well... I know I'm not the most attractive person... I know that people get a weird impression of me when they look at me...” He put a considerable amount of ice cream into his mouth, avoiding Himchan's stare.

“Wait.” Himchan squinted at him, lowering the spoon back into the bowl. “Are you telling me you don't think you're attractive?”

Yongguk shrugged, still not meeting his gaze.

“Bbang, you're like... One of the hottest people I've ever met.” He watched Yongguk's face slowly turn red and felt a great rush of satisfaction. “Seriously. You can turn on that whole tough guy look but as soon as you drop it you're this ridiculously attractive guy with an amazing smile.”

“Stoooop,” Yongguk groaned half-heartedly, hiding behind his hand a little.

“I am not stopping until you understand! You're really hot and you're funny and so genuinely nice it's almost hard to believe.”

“Stoooooop...”

“Your only fault that I can think of is your absolute lack of possessions.”

Yongguk snorted.

“I'm serious! Where are your things? Do you just own loads of embarrassing things so you've locked them away in your room?”

Yongguk was trying not to choke on his ice cream as he stifled laughs.

“Is it full of weird sex toys you're scared I'll judge?”

Yongguk waved a hand, trying very hard not to knock his bowl to the floor as laughter shook his body.

“Or is it full of bodies of all the other men you've deceived into thinking you're a great guy but you're actually an axe murderer?”

“I'm not an axe murderer!” Yongguk managed to defend himself around laughs, eyes wide.

“Ah, that's what you want me to think. Don't try to fool me with that cute laugh of yours.”

“My laugh isn't cute...”

“Yes it is. It's really cute! C'mon, keep laughing, it's really nice~” Himchan set the bowl aside and leaned close to wrap his arms around Yongguk. “C'mon~”

The older couldn't help but laugh, leaning away from the contact a little. “Ah! What are you doing? If you tickle me I'll throw you out!”

“Aw, don't be like that.” Himchan pouted up at him and Yongguk had to look away before his heart exploded.

“Fine. But I'm not cute.”

“Okay. Just really hot then.” Himchan's fox-like grin spread across his cheeks.

Yongguk's face burned. “Fine.” He gently let a hand settle on Himchan's shoulder. “Thank you... For... Thinking that.”

“For thinking you're hot?”

“Yeah. It...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It means a lot, coming from someone like you.”

“From someone like me?” Himchan laughed a little as he looked up at Yongguk, “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well... You're obviously... Really attractive. Everyone thinks you're really attractive. When someone attractive thinks you're attractive it's a nice feeling. It's like having a really talented musician liking your mixtapes.”

“Woah, hey.” Himchan straightened up and looked him in the eyes. “It's nothing like that. What I look like has nothing to do with what you look like.”

“But it's still meaningful if-”

“No.” Himchan raised a finger and pressed it on Yonggk's mouth, effectively shutting him up. “Listen. You need to not put me up on some kind of pedestal, okay? I fit some criteria for what people decided is attractive. Whatever. That doesn't make me somehow better than people. My face is just what people see and it's not who I am; so you can appreciate it all you like but... Don't confuse it with it being a part of my actual... Self – or whatever. Just focussing on it makes me feel like I'm some kind of... Trophy. I don't want that. Not any more.”

“Any more?” Yongguk asked quietly, lips almost kissing Himchan's finger as he spoke.

“I've said too much.” Himchan dropped his hand and leaned back. He combed his fingers through his hair, trying to force it back into its hold.

“Is this what happened with your ex?”

Himchan didn't reply.

“I heard a few things...” Yongguk very carefully reached out and took hold of Himchans's hand, taking it away from his hair.

Himhan let him, though he didn't hold his hand back. “Who told you?”

“Daehyun.”

“Of course he did.” Himchan sighed. “What did he tell you?”

“Not a whole lot, just that things went badly. He showed me a few photos of you two together.”

Himchan pursed his lips, feeling slightly sick at the thought of Yongguk seeing those gaunt cheeks, the empty space in his skinny jeans, the hollow beneath his shirt. “Ah. Yeah. Back when I was skinnier and prettier.”

“I don't know...” Yongguk shifted a little under Himchan's narrow gaze. “Skinnier, yes, but... Not prettier.”

Himchan looked down at their hands, feeling his face heat up.

“Do you want to talk about your ex or... Would you rather not?” Yongguk played with Himchan's fingers, admiring their slender dexterity.

“I- I probably should tell you about it all, otherwise we end up with all of my dumb baggage you don't know about and it causes way more problems than it already has and...” Himchan waved his free hand, “Yeah. Yeah I'll tell you about it.”

“Do you want a warm drink?”

“Nah, I've still got ice cream.” Himchan smiled and leaned against him, “Could do with a hug though.”

Yongguk laughed and pulled him close, an arm wrapped around his middle. Himchan spooned some ice cream into his mouth. They were quiet for some time, but Yongguk didn't feel the need to push Himchan to talk about it. Slowly they relaxed against each other, and then Himchan began speaking.

“The day we broke up, I was in the hospital. I'd collapsed at work and been rushed off, and I woke up alone with a drip attached to me. I asked a doctor what happened and... The list was endless. Low iron, low sugar, low everything. I was horribly underweight and the stress of having a social life, working and not eating enough just was too much. I wasn't there too long, just enough to make sure I wouldn't faint again. Jongup dropped by after his classes to check on me, but that was it.

When I eventually got home, I got a call. It was him, seeing if I was still alive or whatever. I don't really remember it very well, I was still a bit out of it, but... I remember him saying 'Now you know where your limit is.'” He paused here to spoon more ice cream into his mouth.

Yongguk stared down at him, silent, shocked.

“I just ended it. I'd been with him for a really long time, and I thought we'd eventually move in together and maybe get married but... I guess that was just when I realised that he didn't care about me at all. Then things just sort of started... Clicking together in my head.

I wasn't allowed to go anywhere without him, and if he went out I had to go with him even if I hated the company. I couldn't say no to him, I didn't know how and he knew exactly what to say to make me do whatever he wanted. He was charming and handsome... I was infatuated with him, and he knew this. He was clever about it. Never too dramatic so that I would notice, but apparently not subtle enough for other people not to notice. I think my friends tried to warn me something was off but... In the end they slowly just sort of left.

It was just me and him most of the time. He always got his way: we went out only when he wanted to, ate whatever he wanted to eat, dressed only in clothes he thought was attractive, had sex only when he wanted it... I wasn't allowed to ask for anything or change anything or demand anything. I was just his toy.”

Himchan paused here and Yongguk pulled him a little closer, rubbing his arm. He watched Himchan breathe slowly, the musician's lips twitching a little and eyes closed tight. There was another long silence until the younger felt ready to speak again.

“I guess after that I just... Couldn't handle the idea of it happening again. That night I just freaked out at the idea of you fixating on my appearances. I thought I was being naïve again and I was going to be manipulated into another nightmare...” He turned and pressed his face against Yongguk's chest. “I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Yongguk pressed a kiss to the top of Himchan's head.

“Ugh, I came 'round to yours and ended up making everything miserable.” Himchan laughed a little, straightening up a little to wipe his eyes as discretely as he could manage. “I'm such a disaster today.”

“Hey, we're fine. Look, you've still got ice cream left,” He took the spoon from Himchan's bowl, dug out a slightly melted lump and held it out.

Himchan rolled his eyes a little and cupped one hand under the spoon so it wouldn't drip. He took the spoon into his mouth and Yongguk slowly pulled it out. They gazed at each other for a moment.

Yongguk snorted.

“What?”

“You've got-” Yongguk sniggered a little at the pale streak on the side of Himchan's mouth.

“What? What is it?” Himchan touched his cheeks and lips a few times, missing it entirely.

“Hey, let me-” He gently took hold of Himchan's hands, moving them from his face. Without thinking, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of Himchans mouth, clearing away the smeared ice cream. When he pulled back, Himchan's face had gone red. He stiffened a little. “Ah, sorry, that was-”

He was cut off by Himchan pulling him into a kiss, their lips moulding together, still sweet with the taste of ice cream. Himchan's hands were in his hair and his own hands on his arms and their legs pressing into each other in a way he really didn't mind.

Himchan yanked him closer and they fell back onto the lounger, teeth clashing against each other and foreheads bumping but neither felt the need to stop. Their tongues met, hands roaming over chests and backs, legs tangling. By the time Yongguk pulled back to breathe, Himchan's lips were puffy and hair ruffled.

“I... I don't think I'm ready to go any further,” Himchan admitted a little shyly.

“That's fair.” Yongguk leaned in and kissed Himchan's jaw. “Will you stay the night anyway?”

Himchan blinked at him, thinking. “Yeah, sure. I could do with falling asleep in the arms of a man who isn't younger than me in front of a shit movie.”

Yongguk gave him a perplexed expression.

“My friend Jongup. It's nothing to worry yourself about.”

“Right.” Yongguk snorted.

“I'll introduce you sometime.”

“Can't wait, I can ask him why you're falling asleep in each other's arms.”

Himchan gave his arm a playful slap as he chuckled. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

“Gladly,” Yongguk half sang before leaning back down, capturing his lips in another kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Ionna Ginka - Gone (Snow White and the Huntsman OST)


	21. Even When The Night Changes

Himchan rubbed a moisturiser into his face, massaging his cheeks and softening the lines beneath his eyes. Slowly his skin glowed beneath his touch, revitalised and bright and ready for the day. As he checked himself in the mirror, a pair of arms slid their way around his waist and a scruffy mop of hair came into view.

“Aren't you supposed to be dressed by now?”

He got a hum in response, followed by thick lips pressing kisses against his neck.

“If you're not careful you'll be late.”

Another kiss.

“You'll make _me_ late.”

Eventually came a reply, voice deep and husky with sleepiness. “How do you have the time to do all this in the morning?” Yongguk asked, resting his chin on Himchan's shoulder.

“All this? This is just one product and some hairspray. This is nothing. Stop messing around and go have a shower.”

“But you smell nice.” Yongguk nuzzled the back of Himchan's neck.

“And you're supposed to be coaching Junhong. Doesn't he debut soon?”

“Ah, you're right.” Yongguk pulled away, stretching his arms up with a satisfying click and yawned.

In the reflection Himchan could see his newest tattoo on his arm, still a little bit red and sore where it hadn't quite finished healing yet. He smirked a little, remembering the way he'd played it like it didn't hurt yet flinched whenever it came into contact with anything for at least a week. As Yongguk turned to leave their room, he leaned back and placed a quick kiss to the words inked onto his shoulder.

“You love that tattoo,” the older sniggered.

“It's the one I've seen the least. I have to give it more attention.”

“Yeah, you've seen it one less time than the others.” With a roll of his eyes, Yongguk headed out to the shower.

 

Himchan checked himself one last time at the mirror by their front door, eyes temporarily darting to the photo tucked in the corner of the frame of his and Yongguk's one year anniversary. He smiled fondly at it for a moment, recalling the memory like an old friend. He looked so young in that picture...

His thoughts were cut off by warm lips on his jaw and a pair of hands settling on his hips. “If you keep up like this I'll never get to work.”

“It has been a while since we took a day off to do something nice...”

“No,” Himchan warned, turning in his boyfriend's arms, “We'll wait until Junhongie has debuted, then we'll get some friends together and have a fun evening out. Until then we need to behave.”

Yongguk seemed to consider this as he leaned in, pressing small kisses to each mole on Himchan's face. He was about to work his way down when a pair of hands gentle pushed him away.

“Yongguk! Stop! I have to get to work,” the younger managed between giggles.

“Fine~ But I want to kiss you all over when we're both home tonight.”

“We'll see.” Himchan gave him a quick kiss on the lips and pulled away before Yongguk could make it anything more, calling out a quick goodbye.

 

The gentle glow of the crescent moon smiled down from the pink sky, pinprick stars slowly gathering around it like glitter catching light. Himchan waited patiently on a bench, black coat unbuttoned and phone in his hand as he worked his way through his unread messages. A bright streetlamp hummed above himas the bulb began to warm up and glow, reflecting off his phone screen.

“Hey baby~” A deep voice called out to him, before a pair of arms reached down towrap around his shoulders.

“Baby? Really? That's an awful nickname.” Himchan leaned his head back and grinned up at Yongguk.

“What about Princess?” The rapper stepped around the bench to pull him up by the hands.

“Princess? How dare you? I'm the fucking Queen,” Himchan laughed and pulled him close, kissing him.

“Were you okay waiting? I said before, you can come to the studios and wait there.”

Himchan scrunched his nose. “I'm not talking that far. I'm fine waiting here, it's only ten minutes.” He shifted and hooked his arms around Yongguk's, leading him on the route home.

“How was today? Is the class sounding any better?”

Himchan clicked his tongue. “I swear there's not enthusiasm for instruments these days. I'm thinking of taking them to see an orchestra to inspire them a little. Kids have no taste...”

“Ah, but I'm sure you'll change their mind. No one loves instruments as much as you do.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Himchan's cheek.

“I hope so.” He smiled. “Also Jongup called today saying he was accepted into your company's dance crew. He'll probably drop by sometimes to give you his thanks.”

“Excellent! I'm glad to see my suggestions mean something.” He chuckled. “Junhong will be happy. Those two have really clicked lately.”

“Pair of little weirdos,” Himchan teased fondly.

“Yeah, that is true. But at least they're actually talking to people who aren't us.”

“We've done so much.” Himchan snorted.

 

In the dim light of their bedroom, Yongguk's mouth found each of Himchan's moles, colouring each one with a sucking kiss. The younger trembled beneath his mouth, hands sliding through his hair and body flushing.

Something buzzed.

Himchan's brow furrowed.

It buzzed again.

His phone.

“Augh, one moment, Yongguk.” He sat up a little and leaned over the edge of the mattress of their shared bed, paling the floor until he found his jacket and pulled his phone out. “Hello?”

Yongguk rest his head on Himchan's thigh, listening quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, lis-... Yeah, it's-... Yeah we have a-... Hey...” Himchan threw Yongguk an exasperated expression.

Yongguk raised his eyebrows.

“Hey, mum? Can I call you back? I'm a bit busy... Yeah, I love you too. Okay bye mum. Bye.” He hung the phone up and casually tossed it back onto the floor.

“What did she want?” Yongguk kissed Himchan's thigh with soft lips.

“She saw something she thought would be nice for the wedding. Honestly I think she's more excited about it than we are.”

“Doubt it.” Yongguk grinned. “I'd say I'm pretty excited.”

“You know I was exaggerating.” Himchan rolled his eyes and petted Yongguk's hair. “But as much as I'd love to talk to her about it, I think I'd love something else much more.”

“Name it and it's yours~” Yongguk kissed a little higher.

“Make love to me, Bang Yongguk.”

“With pleasure,” he grinned, “Bang Himchan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: One Direction - Night Changes
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading this story! It's been so much fun!


End file.
